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Wed, Dec. 29th, 2004, 02:56 pm

I get nervous when I go shopping around the holidays. Parking, no. Crowds, no.

Goddamn Salvation Army.

One time of the year people are in the spirit of giving, and crack heads have to compete for handouts with these bell-ringing nincompoops.

"Aw, giving is a sign of confidence, of strength."

Nonsense. Giving is a sign of weakness.

It’s my money, I give it on my own terms. Girl Scout cookies. I’m helping to build campgrounds for girls. One delicious box of lard at a time.

I hope the cookie money trickles down to the girls. They have pictures on the box of girls planting flowers and wearing swim goggles. "Having fun at Girl Scout Camp." I’ll bet they are. Stealing a canoe to cross the lake to smoke cigarettes with the Keebler elves.

Buildin’ campgrounds for the next round of girls with my cookie money. Their suffering’s on my hands.

My fat, chocolate-coated hands.