Things to say to a Flying Donkey you’ve awkwardly mistaken for one of Santa's reindeer

We’ve all been there - it’s Xmas day, you’ve been nogging on the egg, the whiskey sours have been too sweet to avoid, and you've gotten high as fuck on grandmas Xmas poetry reading… 

So … you take a break outside for some fresh air. Or to … “get a little sky fuel” as you like to say it to your fellow party goers, you cheeky bastard.  

You stroll out. The “fuel”  is crisp. The sky is open. It’s freeing. And it’s oh so dewy dewy fresh. And that’s The GOOD kind a dew (not like fucking dewy dewy stale - who let this dew go stale? If you're not going to use it, put it in the freezer dang it!) 

It’s been a magical day, a magical Christmas Day - and all this magic, well, that’s got you believin’ in magic my friend. 

So when you gaze upwards, the moon light dancing in your eyes, and you see two clouds separate, like a nail going into wood shown in reverse, and between those clouds you see a brown hooved beast flying towards you through the air, you can’t help but scream... 

“Yyaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy” 

Then it lands in front of you. A smile on its mullet that could raise a loaf of bread (“self” raising flour - my ass). And that’s when you realize.  

“Oh shit, I thought I was yayying one of Santa’s Reindeers, but this is just your run of the mill, stock of the trade, bland as a mule - flying donkey….

shit” 

What do you do? 

Tell it - 'sorry I thought you were a flying reindeer'? 

No. That’ll hurt it’s feelings. 

Say - 'ooops, sorry, I thought you were someone else'? 

Nope. That’ll hurt it’s feelings. 

Think - 'Goop, I thought you were my flying donkey buddy “Sonnington” who I have a yaaayy greeting tradition with'?

No way. You don’t want to besmirch the name of your good friend the flying donkey  Sonnington- that’d hurt HIS feelings 

So what DO you do?

Well take it from me, someone who’s been there more times than I can count (I used to be able to count, until my buddy Sonnington back heeled me in the temple). You have nothing to fear. Follow MY tips and you too can avoid mistaken identity Social humiliation. 

So here they are, my personal, tried and tested:

Top Ten Things to say to a flying donkey to try and convince it that your glee upon seeing them wasn’t because you originally mistakenly thought they were one of Santa’s reindeers, and want to save face both for you and the bland donkey you’ve accidentally elevated to the level of “possibly interesting”, even though it isn't.  

1. Just admit it - maybe the flying donkey needs to know that it’s just that - a boring god damn run of the mill flying donkey.

2. Ask it - what the fuck is a mill anyway? 

3. And why is running said mill apparently bad?

4. Cause RUNNING just about anything has at least SOME panache right? Running a road crew, running a rowing crew or even crewing a road runners rabbit hunt! 

5. I mean you’re RUNNING IT - that means you’re in charge for fucks sake!

6. Top of the tree.

7. Milk of the teet.

8. Angel of the mass of space between here and heaven.

9. You RULE. 

10. Well you rule this weird pointless space at least. But rule you do. 

11. And what is that space called anyway? 

12. It's not heaven. It's not earth. It's got to be something. 

13. Whichever Angel was in charge of running the naming ceremony fucked THAT up BAD. 

14. Plus running?

15. That’s a dang OLYMPIC sport!

16. An event established in fine and historic nation of Greece.

17. A fine and historic nation that up till now has a fine and historic BAN on all flying Donkeys.

18. And Flying Honey Bangers.

19. AND AND AND flying Springboks! 

20. Sure they let in Flying reindeer- but do they do it from love? No. they do it from FEAR!

21. Not that flying hooved beasts are anything to be feared. 

22. So if you think I was judging you flying donkey, then you are wrong wrong….

23. Really Wrong. 

24. Look I'll just say it "Sorry dude, I thought you were a reindeer. My bad". 

25. But, In my defence I heard rudolf was once mistaken for a levitating warthog! 

26. And if you think you’re better than a levitating warthog then you’ve probably never heard the awesome Math Rock band - Levitating War Pig!

27. Did you think I was going to say Levitating Warthog? 

28. Ha ha , Like anyone would name a band after a “warthog”, ha ha ha.

29. See, we’re having a laugh now - nothing awkward about that

30. Saying “nothing awkward about that” is a bit awkward though…

31. Dang 

32. I’ve got carrots - want one?

33. Ok two 

34. Now ya love me!

35. Yay

36. I love me too 

Yay. 

Well I think We’ve answered this one:

 
Spotting a flying donkey instead of one of Santa’s reindeers ultimately leads to YOU finally being able to tell yourself that you love yourself. 

Awwww. 

Thanks flying donkeys ! 



Todays blog was brought to you by: 

Levitating War Pig - the best Math rock band this side of the great pork-rock belt.  

And 

“Self love - if you want it - then stay away from fucking Santa”. 

And

Mills - run one today - you’ll feel GREAT about yourself. 

And 

Grandmas poetry - look most poetry sucks - not grandmas. Plus she made you soup! 

Awwww. 

Yay.  

And Now The December Journal of "Chrissie Orment", The Christmas Ornament

Hi everyone, my name is Chrissie, um, Chrissie Orment, I live in Wisconsin USA, oh yeah, and I am a Christmas tree ornament. Um, so yeah, Fleeting Forever asked me to write a journal this month so you all could know what the Christmas period is like for us ornaments. Um. Here's a selfie of me, so you know what I look like and that... 

                                     Me! 

So yeah, here it goes. 

December 1st

It’s December again. It's been another tough year. But if I’m lucky I’ll be out of this storage box soon, and once again hanging out in the open, on the tree, bringing Christmas joy to everyone. 

I cannot wait. 

I’m so excited!

Then again, careful what you wish for Chrissie, you did this to yourself the last three years, the box opens earlier than ever, you think all your Christmases have come at once, and suddenly the complaining starts.

“You’re out too early,” 

"I don't want to see a tree yet"

"Already?" 

"What's next hot cross buns in January?"

"I haven't even digested Thanksgiving yet!"

"What's this on my face, a spider? Aaagghhh, oh shit, no it was just a bit of tinsel. Tinsel already? AAGGGGGGAGG"

"No, not yet, NOOOOO"

The humans complain. They're ALWAYS complaining about how early we come out. 

Those bastards. "Hey, I don't want to hear you complaining dick. Try spending a year in a box and then have people MAD they let you out"

No no Chrissie, don't be like that. You're all about joy. So BE about joy. 

It's December, Christmas is coming, yay. 

December 3rd

Still in the box. Which is fine. Like I said, the it's too early. Sure I WANT to be out. I LOVE being out, so why wouldn't I want that? Yet, I don't LOVE when the humans complain about me and my friends being out. 

I try not to get angry. I really do. I'm all about joy! 

But...  I let it get to me some years. I just do. I get my feelings hurt. I cry. I start threatening to spot some human who is barefoot, and then time it just right, and then jump off the tree, crash into eighty glass pieces all over the floor and fuck up that barefoot for life. 

But it’s not worth it Chrissie. 

I remind myself. And it isn't. Plus I'm still in the box, so what are we arguing about anyway. 

Joy. Joy. Joy. 

YES! 

December 4th 

I mean, Mike the bulb did that eight years ago, just dove right in front of a barefoot, and the human who's foot he went into was walking again by Valentines Day!

But where’s Mike now? 

Landfill. That’s where. 

Oh and that one little piece of him is still in that humans foot. But still. Hold it together. Be strong. The humans come around in the end.

Besides, still in the box, so yeah, it's irrelevant. 

December 12th 

Joy to the world. Joy Joy and more Joy. 

Still in the box. 

Which is great. It really is. Absolutely NO danger of being accused of being out too early this year. 

Lol. 

I was stressing for nothing. 

Just sitting tight in a box stressing for nothing. 

In a box, in an attic, in the dark. No reason to stress. 

Plus, Christmas is SOOOON. Well sooonish. 

Awesome! 

December 13th 

Still in the box. 

December 14th 

Still in the box. 

December 15th 

Um, STILL IN THE FUCKING BOX. 

Joy. Joy. Joy. Joy. Joy. Joy. Come on Chrissie. 

Fuck. I am ready to spread joy. Come on. Open the box. Lets get this on. 

December 16th 

Come on fuckers, this is getting ridiculous. I know you've had a hard year too, but us Ornaments and the other decorations are STILL IN A BOX! 

December 17th 

Fuckers, can you hear me, fuuucccckers!

Joy joy fucking joy. 

December 18th 

Alright just let us out. I get it humans. I do. You were ALSO worried about being "too early". Hey who amongst us has never worried about being "too early" if you know what I mean (if you don't I was referencing premature ejaculation). 

But hey, good news, you don't have to worry about it. It's December 18th. No one is going to call you "too early" this year. You nailed it! Congratulations buddy. Well done. 

Now, open up this little box, fling me and my friends on the tree, and let us spread some fucking joy, alright? 

December 19th 

Look, I am trying to be nice, but this is definitely NOT a "too early" scenario now. In fact you are very close to copping a "no decorations, what are ya some sort of grinch?" type comment. And you do NOT want that. And you know who else doesn't want that.... MEEEE! 

Come on Chrissie, Joy, all you need is Joy... Joy ta Joy ta Joy. 

December 20th

Fuck joy. 

Let us out of this box. OUTTT!! 

Hang us, and wrap us, and light us UP! Let's get this happening. 

December 21st 

Seriously, still not. We are STARS. Stars dang it. 

I mean Jeremy the star ornament is LITERALLY a star. 

People go crazy when they see us. Crazy for joy. Get us up. Up up up. 

December 22nd 

Then again, now that I think about it, no one EVER goes crazy for ME.

Hang on (a rad term by the way, reminds people of things that hang, rad stuff, like ornaments and shit) Sheila, the Angel, always gets “awwwwws”, and “oh it’s so wonderful”, and "wow, lovely, nice, an angel" and stuff like that. Sure, she's an angel. 

Horban, the picture of The Simpsons at Christmas, get's "Oh cool, I think I have seen that episode". Yay, good for him. He deserves it. It's a good TV show. 

And then Gary, the anatomically correct naked Jesus ornament, well he always gets laughs. Big laughs too. 

But those laughs are cheap. Shitty shock value laughs. "Hey look it's Jesus's dick" laughs. 

And I get that, normally a naked Jesus ornament has like the Ken Doll nothing, or a sheath. Gary has full dick and balls, hilarious. I'm not denouncing that. I enjoy a cheap laugh too. 

But then where are my laughs. 

I mean I am funny dang it. 

I am a Christmas ornament of a Christmas tree that’s hung ON a Christmas tree. It’s perfect fucking irony. 

A tree on a tree - why does a tree need a smaller tree? Is there an even smaller ornament of another tree on me? And then another on that? 

It's brilliant. It's a thought poker. And it's IRONIC. 

But these numbskulls don’t get irony do they? “Oh it’s Jesus’s penis, ha ha fa la la la la fuck you”. "A tree on a tree, I don't get it, let's look at Jesus's penis again". Fuck. 

December 23rd 

I bet that if I was in England I'd get laughs. 

Yeah, over there they’d get me. I’ve seen Ricky Gervais’s The Office Christmas special; those Brits love irony. Here in America though, not at all. 

You know what, I wish America had lost the damn War of Independence. Yeah I said it. The people would be toasting the Queen, and loving me. What a beautiful thought.

Then again, let’s face it. Regardless of whether I lived in England, America, or the United States of the British Empire, I know what happens, people see Gary and laugh, then they see me, I get no laugh, or maybe even I do get a laugh, but then they look six inches to my right and yell “yaaaaaayyy candy cane!” 

Candy Fucking Cane. 

The Christmas ornament that people can stick in their fat mouths. 

I just can’t compete with peppermint. Those assholes go nuts for them. I don’t get it. They don’t eat peppermint all year and yet now suddenly it’s like giving a dead squirrel to a wild dog. 

They rip em open with their teeth. Spit plastic on the floor. Suck on em till they’re pointy spikes, crunch them till they’re not sure if they’re eating shards of candy or shards of broken tooth, but they don’t care. 

"Just look over there idiots, there’s much better stuff to consume" I want to scream. "There’s snowmen shaped sugar cookies on that table, on the mantle there’s chocolate in the advent calendar, that bowl in the kitchen has sweet rum soaked salted caramel eggnog". Fuck, if I had a mouth I would deck the halls with the sound of me licking that bowl so clean the glass would turn back to sand. 

Stupid humans.

Then again, I guess that’s only the set up of a wealthy family’s house. 

I hope this year, if I ever get out of this fucking box, I hope I’m in the house of a REALLY rich family. 

Shit, that sounds so wrong when I write it down. I’m not a snob am I?

The thing is, there’s just more presents. It makes the whole picture of the tree much prettier. It’s ok that to want that right. It’s literally my job. Be part of a beautiful tree scenario. That's the gig. 

You know and something about joy I think. 

Why does Santa give more gifts to the rich anyway? It makes no sense. They already have more stuff. Then he claims the test is actually a naughty vs. nice battle? 

So a poor kid is all nice, and get’s squat, and rich little shit naughty fucks the world, and get lots? 

Why?

Oh wait a minute. No way. Holy fucking Night. Is Santa trying to teach Americans… IRONY! That fat genius. I love you Santa. And those idiot humans have no idea. Morons!

Joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy joy! 

December 24th

I don't CARE that I'm still in the box. I finally understand Christmas. Soon the world will all know what Irony is, and THEN when I am out, I will be the funniest fucking ornament EVER! 

Wait.

I think I hear something. 

The attic stairs are opening. Hark now, hear the Angeles sing! Our box is moving. Shelia, Gary, everyone, wake up! 

Look the box is opening. Look, sunlight, tinsel, stockings, eggnog, SNOW! It’s all so beautiful. Yay. Oh my god I take it all back. This is the best. It’s here. It’s Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year! Joy to world, and Merry fucking Christmas everyone!

The End 

PS. 

- Chrissie DID get some laughs this year. Although mostly because someone stuck her up the Angels butt. 

- The last bit of Mike finally fell out of the humans foot while he was getting a foot massage by a new lover - he cried like a baby - she found it "the sweetest thing ever" - they're getting married and have a "zero glass bauble policy" at their wedding. Sandra "Christmas All Year" Klops has yet to RSVP. 

- The anatomically correct naked Jesus was deemed "inappropriate" this year and put in the bin. 

- Irony went on to be named "finally funny" by Newsweek Magazine. 

- No one is sure if a tree on a tree IS irony or not though. 

- Chrissy now works for the stage show Jagged Little Pill. 

- "Joy Joy Joy Joy Joy" is still a lovely sentiment.   

- Merry Xmas, and Happy Holidays and such. 

- Yay. 

"Things I Like" with Dave

 It's that exciting time on the blog once more, where the fantastical turns into... 

"Things I Like"... with Dave. 

This is the show where there are some "things I like", and I'm Dave - the very same Dave as in the title of this show, a show titled... 

"Things I Like"... with Dave. 

Although if it were a different Dave that sure would be fun too. 

I mean imagine the intro to the show THEN! 

'This is "Things I Like" with Dave - and I am your host Dave - no not the Dave from the title, another one - and this is the show where there are things I like with Dave, presented by me, a different Dave to the Dave who likes the thing". 

Now thats the kind of show I want to watch. 

It's got everything. Things. Likes. Daves. Other Daves. 

How MANY Daves? I don't even KNOW anymore. 

Is that a Dave over there? MAYBE. I am not going to ask his name. What if we've met before and I don't remember. That would be embarrassing. With Dave. 

Thats not a chance I am going to take. Or am I? 

Now we also have MYSTERY and SUSPENSE. 

Ok, I didn't ask his name. That's RESOLUTION baby. 

But his name may still be Dave. MORE mystery! 

In fact I enjoy the idea of this show so much - I am going to declare "Things I Like with Dave, with your host Dave, no not the one from the title, another one" - to be todays "thing I like" with Dave, in this case this one, as in this Dave, as in the Dave from the title of the show we are currently on, not the miscellaneous hypothetical Daves from the new show which has at least one more Dave than this show has, and is the thing I like today, rather than the show we are on at the moment. 

I like it. 

                                                         A Dave? The Dave? No one KNOWS!

Well I think we have answered this one:

- There may be more than one Dave. 

- But no one knows for sure. 

- Which is great, because mystery is great.  

- There may be more than one Dave. 

- Was that last line an intentional repetition or an accidental repetition? 

- I don't KNOW. 

- Ooooh, mystery. 

- "Oooooh, mystery"... with Dave - would also be an awesome show. 

- Repetition is great. 

I like it. 

Ikea: The Big Questions The Mainstream Media Refuse To Ask

It's been a huge week for Ikea. 

Their stores AROUND the WORLD are still a thing, PLUS in a huge twist of glee, in the story that EVERYONE has been talking about, 30 odd people this week were forced to spend a night in an Ikea in Denmark. And not, as most would assume, because they couldn't find the exit, even though they swear, they "HAVE been following the arrows", but in fact, because of a snowstorm. 

You can read all about it with the below link. Or I can sum it up for you. Here I go. There was a snowstorm. A bunch of people got trapped. It wasn't too bad because Ikea has both beds and food (possibly meatballs - although that is not confirmed nor denied in the story). The End. 

Snowstorm Trapped Customers

It's a lovely story. And probably the biggest story out of Denmark all week (or millennia). 

And when stories this big happen, you get professional journalists AROUND the WORLD asking questions. Big questions. Big questions like: 

- I wonder if they got to sleep in the beds?

- Oh I see it says here that they did. So, um, how about that weather? 

Excellent questions journalists. I enjoyed them immensely. I also enjoyed the answers: 

- Yes, it says on the press release there, they did. 

- Snowy. Did you not get the press release? 

Excellent stuff. Story over. 

Um not so fast Ikea. I am ALSO a journalist, and I have some questions too. In fact I have some big questions. Questions which the mainstream media REFUSE to ask. 

1. Every time I have been to an Ikea, I have always had the same thought - "I bet a dozen people live in this store and no one has noticed". Well where did THOSE people all go this particular night? 

2. Surely when they were picking beds at least one person said "you can't have that one, that's the one I always sleep in, I mean, that's the one I am going to sleep in for the... first time... tonight", right? 

3. It says in the story that six customers got stuck. SIX? No no no. Every Ikea on earth has at LEAST ten thousand customers at all times. What happened to the rest of them? 

4. Why don't any of the stories I have read about the incident even mention meatballs? 

5. Plus the stories don't mention the one customer who couldn't help but joke around with gems like "If this lasts I know who I am going to eat first" and "I guess we better start repopulating the earth"? It is not possible there wasn't one dude doing that. So what happened to him?

6. I'll just say it - what IS in those meatballs? Cause they are delicious. 

6. Doesn't it snow in Denmark all the fucking time? 

7. By all accounts everyone was treated delightfully by the staff, and they all had a good time. Are good natured Ikea shopping experiences how Denmark consistently finished atop of the list of the world's happiest people for a good decade? 

8. But also the last three years they have lost that spot to Finland, so what the fuck is happening in Finnish Ikeas? 

9. Plus Ikea is Swedish, how are THEY not number one?

10. How do I turn my automatic windscreen wipers back on in my Volvo? 

11. Ikea sells One Billion Meatballs a year, One Billion! And yet when I go to the local supermarket, at least in Australia, why is there is no one competing for those big meatball monies?

12. For shame big beef! Or big pork! Or big beef and pork and etc blend depending on what it actually in those things! 

13. Actually, now that I think about it, I can think of a half dozen chicken product companies in the supermarket - Ingham, Steggles,  Lilydale, the one with the rooster for a logo, the one with a lady chicken for a logo - but I can't think of a single equivalent for beef or pork products. CONSPIRACY!

14. Fuck, does that not exist? Thats a potential HUGE market just there waiting! 

15. Invented by me, right now, copywrite, trademark, no takey bakies. And 

16. How do I get my phone to automatically connect to my Volvo? 

So answer me Ikea. Don't make me come down there to investigate in person please. I can never find the exit, and yes "I HAVE been following the arrows, I swear". 

PS. Apparently people also got stuck overnight in the neighboring toy store. Which has been practically ignored by the media. Um Um Um? 

- Did it turn into the movie Big Two? 

- Was Tom Hanks there?

- What ever happened to that kid who played his friend? 

- I liked him. Or did I?  

- Wait a second, wait a second - Bigs girlfriends other love interest was the dad from Home Alone. First he loses his girlfriend to a kid, and then just LEAVES his kid behind. Um CONSPIRACY! 

Celebrations, and other things you should stick in a bowl and eat

 Well it's happened. 

That's right, good people of the Expansion Fantastical universe- we posted our one thousandth blog the other day!

That's one THOUSAND times, I, David Tieck, have had a bunch of thoughts, and thought - you know what, these are thoughts that I think the internet will think are worth thinking about. 

And I was right. The internet thought - yay. And they turned those yays into clicks. And they turned those clicks into reads - in fact, we also just hit our 990000 read!

Who'd have thought, that thoughts like these thoughts could reach so many thousandths of thinkers? Yay. 

It's a time to celebrate, sure. But it's also a time to reflect. And with reflection comes questions. So I put it out to the universe - ask me anything you want to know about the blog. And the universe... responded. 

"Ok, so, but like what the hell is the blog actually ABOUT"? 

People have been asking me this question for decades. On planes, on bikes, on trikes, on trains on rails, on railway style trapeze home game editions of the price is right, on homing pigeons with their settings set to "human size parcels", on Parcels United Brand skateboards, and even on NON transport devices like in cars or on Star Trek style "transport" pods. 

And my answer to this question has come on lunar modules, in buses, on planes, and even on Star Wars style "transport" pods. 

And that answer has been a resounding - YES. 

Because the blog is about THIS!

But it's also about other things. Many other things. Many other things like...

Helmets, and carpet, and the crushing defeat of the corn starch industry’s infiltration of rice bubbled cereals - HEY corn starch - FUCK OFF! 

Rice bubbled cereals are RICE's backyard - and you can get the fuck off rice's yard!

I mean, come on corn starch, keep to your own lane. Plus why do you even want to be in Rice's yard, when you have a whole LANE, and it's a great lane. 

Consider these amazing things ALREADY in your lane:

 - Cornflakes

- Corn Bubbles 

- Corn Starch Marching Men From Venus

- Corn Krispe Bites 

- Corns In a Bowl With Milks

- Corn Horngers 

- Corn Flavored Corn Corns and 

- Corn Flaked Bubbles of Corn Clusters 

Oh fuck. I have just been informed that not a single member of the list above is a real cereal. Not one. Yet each and everyone is spectacularly AWESOME. 

Well I think we've answered this one: 

"What the hell is the blog actually ABOUT"? 

It's about I, David Tieck, finally being declared the new LORD of cereal! 

And it's about getting me, David Tieck, finally officially DECLARED KING of CEREAL IDEAS, and possibly getting my name legally changed to David "CEREAL KING" Tieck. 

First next step: Call me Kelloggs and/or the other one (or ones? Who pays attention to cereal?) - I am ready to take my RIGHTFUL place at the HEAD of your cereal research and development department! No one knows the game better than me! 

First Job: Change the department name to - The Cereal Kings Workshop (please note, I just come up with the ideas, someone else can "work" them out). 

Wait wait wait, I just had another idea - new shipping method - Homing Pigeons with their settings set to - Cereal Sized Packages. 

I can't be stopped. 

Hire me FAST Kelloggs and/ or the other one (or ones), or this guy thinks that you'll have thoughts about how you should have thought to hire me, sooner! 

I think. 

Ps. Thanks for the reads. YAY!