www.whyville.net Nov 14, 2007 Weekly Issue

Whyville Columnist

Life Lessons: Coke Doesn't Mix With Christmas

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Author's Note: Hey again Whyvillians! I'm here again to share with you yet another experience. I hope you learn from this as much as I did. Even though the following may sound fun, it was NOT. Just thought I'd share . . .

So it was Christmas Eve. December 24th. The BIG CHEESE of all holidays.

One of our Christmas traditions is that we open the gifts from our siblings on Christmas Eve. After opening numerous CDs, DVDs, and necklaces, I was feeling pretty worn out. I yawned, when a red can caught my eye. I glanced from it to the Christmas tree. Don't ask why, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I caved, and decided to drink the coke.


When suddenly, I was very energetic. I was dancing around the tree singing "Kumbaya", when suddenly it occured to me. The effects of eggnog and coke sloshing around in my stomach were really affecting me. I laughed at myself and stumbled down the stairs. I was suddenly feeling very excited about watching black and white Christmas movies with positive moral values. I flopped down on the couch and watched my dad doze off in the leather chair as my family got picked off one by one by the sandman (which is a horror story in itself).

By this time I was flying high and it was around 2 AM. I decided that the snoring wasn't fly enough for me, and ran upstairs and decided it would be a good idea to read under the covers with a flashlight. But that was too advanced for my racing mind.

All the thoughts were like OHMYGAWDWHYDIDIDRINKTHATHALFACOKENOWIMAPHYSCO. My eyes scanned the words in my books, barely soaking in any meaning from those old Babysitters Club books. I sat there for a while, slowly thinking that it would be fun to- BAM. I was out.

When I woke up 15 minutes later, BOOM! The living room had turned into a prosperous garden of gifts! I JUMPED up, pure caffeine throbbing through my veins from my left brain through my right brain to my toes. I threw myself down the stairs and into a pile of sharp edged presents.

I hauled myself up from inside the pool of gifts, and joyfully danced around until my family awoke. When they finally ended their own peaceful slumbers, the opening began.

I tore and ripped and ate at the paper and nipped at my dog (wait . . . I don't even have a dog . . . so what was I nipping at? :|). I can't really remember what happened. All I know is when the last gift was opened . . .

CRASH. I was out. Right there on the living room floor. I must have been pretty knocked out because when I woke up, I was sitting in a velour beanbag chair in Justin Timberlake's apartment, sipping a soy latte.

So the lesson, kids, is don't mix Coke, Eggnog, and Christmas. Or you WILL end up sitting in Justin Timberlake's apartment drinking soy (I don't even like soy), and listening to Britney begging him to take her back. Wow. It was an eventful Christmas.

So this is xo7joa7ox going to grab a coke . . . because it's not Christmas . . . I can do that.


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