Now, loaning a friend money isn't always the best idea, but it's not the end of the world. Except it happened every year. And, as time passed, we'd spend less time together doing fun things and more time with him asking me for things -- could I give him a few bucks, could I watch the kids, could I co-sign for a loan. Eventually, I only heard from him when he needed something. Meanwhile, his brother moved in with him and did the same thing and not a one of them had a steady job. They did, however, smoke like chimneys, drink like fish, and sell pot like Snoop Dogg had cloned himself and all the doubles were trapped in their basement.
Eventually I got to wondering: If you're receiving disability, and if you're selling pot and, as I found out, if you're receiving money from the government because your kids were in an accident years ago and got a settlement that you collect in their name, why the shit do you need my money every year?
Those marijuana-themed Christmas ornaments won't buy themselves.
Naturally, the fact he had one leg became the center of his argument about needing money. And naturally, he also used his poor kids not getting a Christmas as guilt fuel. Fortunately for me, I don't guilt easily. My pessimism is like a mighty suit of armor glinting in the rays of your bullshit as I fly a banner that says "Where the fuck is your money and how can you not be aware Christmas comes on the same day every year?"