Once a year, this thing happens called the Santa Ana winds (they are nothing compared to the Rob Thomas winds!), wherein all of Los Angeles falls over and nobody will shut up about it. This year, they tell me, the Santa Ana winds moved 90 miles in one hour! That is so many miles! As a result, a tree tried to murder me by squishing my house while I was "asleep" in it ("asleep" = "weeping in terror and waiting for death"). Thanks, Santa Ana, you dick! You are the shittiest saint ever! Santa Ana is the patron saint of both tree murder and having to throw away everything in your refrigerator because the power was out for six days. Smooth move, pope!
So ANYWAYZ, I had to pack up some dirty clothes and go live at a motel for a few days while kindly volunteers from the church down the street cleared the death tree off my roof. "It looks like somebody wanted to be able to SEE you better!" joked one of the kindly church people (he meant the Lord). Sorry, not to be a dick, but if Jesus can't see through roof tiles OR EVEN PINE NEEDLES, then are you guys praying to Santa Ana to knock your church down? For the record, the church people are super-nice and regularly bring me meatballs. The Jesus-meatballs of kindness. I do not want their house of worship to fall down. BUT I DIGRESS! AS USUAL!
The motel I stayed at is next to a fancy new outdoor mall in Glendale called the Americana. The Americana is an America-themed theme park located in America so that Americans can finally experience a taste of American culture! I couldn't wait! The Americana has a Cheesecake Factory, a Barnes & Noble, a pointless novelty trolley for idiots, a gigantic golden statue of a naked dude (because America), and a cupcake store that sells "cake-batter-flavored" cupcakes (SO INFURIATING I CANNOT EVEN GET INTO IT). I went to the movies.
The movie I saw is the impenetrably titled Arthur Christmas (you guys, their last name is Claus!!!), which I am afraid nobody on earth is going to watch because the marketing campaign is garbage, which is a terrible shame, because the movie is FUCKING AWESOME AND MADE ME CRY TEARS OF BOTH GENUINE LAUGHTER AND CHRISTMASSY JOY EVEN THOUGH I AM SUCH AN ASSHOLE THAT JESUS TRIED TO KILL ME WITH A TREE. Arthur Christmas is the younger son of Santa Claus and the only human left in the North Pole who genuinely gives a shit about children, comfort, joy, tidings, figgy pudding, gay apparel, or cookies. When a glitch in the Christmas-Industrial Complex leaves one little child presentless, Arthur takes it upon himself to fly to England and bring her a goddamn bike. Funny jokes, funny animation, funny elves, funny old senile Santa. Arthur Christmas made me glad a tree fell on my house. 
