Time to clear the noggin of a couple of bothersome topics.

“Brain Drain” is usually reserved for commentary on dumb products, TV or other novelties of our world, but today’s objects of affection are simply my “beefs” in general.

Shall we begin?

Grunge

I don’t consider myself an old fuddy-duddy, but I am not a fan of this whole grunge look.

Long hair?  No prob.

Rumpled clothes?  C’est la vie.

Facial hair?  Hukuna Matata.

But put’em all together in one big (grease) ball of wax and you end up looking like a dumpster-jumper in a Third World nation.

This grunge look makes the homeless seem fashionable.

I’m sure my comments to the grunge look are similar to my Dad’s reaction when my older brothers came home between 1969 and 1973.  Both had hair way past their shoulders, dirty shirts and scruffy elephant-bell jeans.

Yes, the grunge look is the updated version of the hippie daze of the late 1960’s.

Today, everyone wants to look like they came straight from a Taco Bell TV commercial.

As a matter of fact, pictured to the left is an actual police sketch of a man wanted for robbing a Taco Bell.

I say, “Good luck Lieutenant Flatfoot.”  This suspect looks identical to any dude under the age of 24!

Let’s move on.

Christmas Lights

How can something so pretty be so damn aggravating?

I strung 26 sets of lights outside my home (a My Odd Sock household record!), including 6 sets on a small Evergreen tree.

Festival of lights

As you can see, I wrapped the lights around the tree like a mental patient–with no particular rhyme or reason.

Finishing the tree, I moved on the “beautify” my remaining shrubs.

Glancing back, I realized one strand of lights had gone out.  Of course, the faulty lights HAD to be the very first strand I put on this tree.

After about 45 minutes of carefully trying to “unstring” the tree of the dark set—I wised up and went to retrieve my Christmas holiday, Scrooge endorsed, spirit eliminators—my trusty yellow-handled wire cutters!

Hope they're unplugged you moron.

I snipped and I clipped.

I pulled and I yanked.

And with one final tug, this Grinch tossed’em in the garbage all stinky & rank.

“25 strands are plenty,” I said with a sneer.

25 strands look like 40–with enough beer.

So this ends my rant on Christmas lights.

Yeah, it’s not as bright in Whoville this holiday night.