On the Thirteenth Day of Christmas

 On the thirteenth day of Christmas, the judge finally came through with the restraining order against my “true love”.  The woman is solid bonkers.  Who knew you could buy swans on QVC?  And who thought FedEx would deliver Pipers replete with pipes for piping.  At this point, my small house is overrun with the following:

There are 184 birds currently crapping all over my yard.  My truck looks like it has chicken pox.  And the geese are terrorizing the neighbors.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck with feeding and sheltering 140 men and women who are getting darn sick of living on pears, eggs, and milk.  Not to mention that the maids are feeling put upon since they have to work while the others just frolic about.  I roasted a few of the hens the other day thinking that might solve a couple problems at once, but it turned out the dancing ladies were vegetarians and I damn near had a riot on my hands.  If only the partridge family had come with a Technicolor bus instead of a dozen trees I’d pack them all in there and ship them out.

If that isn’t enough, the cops are here nearly every night as the pipe and drum core just won’t settle after dark.  And may I mention that there are a limited number of songs that render well on pipes and drums?  And the five that do are really fraying the one nerve I have left.  I’m really thinking of turning the leaping lords loose in the back yard and using them for target practice.

I’ve got one shot left.  I’m putting the 40 golden rings up for sale on EBay.  However, the winning bidder has to take the other 324 critters with the rings.

And please, for crying out loud, stop sending my true love offers for new credit cards.  She is not a responsible shopper.  She needs a 12 step program, not a debt consolidation loan.  Work with me here.  Please?

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