This is more of a personal experience than a TCM one. I figured I would share it with the world…cause you know everyone worldwide checks this site out.
I guess you can trace the experience back to the beginning with my love of pirates. I’m sure all of you know about Santa Claus coming around your neighborhood on the local fire engine throwing out candy canes or hosing everyone down with eggnog.
It began like any other night. I just downed a 12er of Ecto-Cooler and was trying to catch my dog and put it in the ghost trap when in the distance I heard the distinctive sound of fire engines. I knew it was Santa coming around spreading his holiday cheer all over everybody. Without hesitation I ran out the front door waiting impatiently for the fat man to come around. A few minutes passed by but I could still hear the sirens coming closer and closer. A few more minutes passed by and the Ecto-Cooler was beginning to wear off. Then just as I was about to go back inside thinking it wasn’t our night, turning down the street was Santa and his fire engine. I was quite excited seeing this, and pooped my pants. I mean what kid doesn’t want to meet Santa, even if you are Jewish, Muslim or Retarded.
As I looked down the block watching the truck coming down, I noticed it was going quite fast to be handing out goodies, something didn’t look right. The truck kept getting closer at a high rate of speed. As it neared I noticed that Santa had been tied up and gagged and the truck was hijacked by a band of pirates! It was an amazing spectacle. They sped by waving their swords shouting and babbling chicken. I first knew they were pirates because they replaced the American flag that was on the truck with a good ol’ jolly roger (see header image on this site). You could immediately point out the pirate captain because he was standing on Santa like Captain Morgan with sword raised in victory. I suppose he had a little Captain in him (awkward laugh to self).
Before I could even say or think anything, they were gone. In amazement, I immediately went into the house, walked over to my parents liquor cabinet, pulled out the rum, broke the top off with my teeth and began to drink. I was a 10 year old badass. That my friends, is why I am an abusive alcoholic.
That was word for word, my first talk at my first AA meeting.
