A Little Something For Santa

By W.R. Jones


    Dear Santa,

    I left this cup and some homemade pastries on the mantle for you.  I hope this makes up for the one or perhaps two bad things I may have done this past year.  I don’t know why I’m even admitting the possiblity of error; I should just stick to my story of complete innocence.  I guess it is the season and wanting to purify myself before receiving all those wonderful things you are going to bring.

    For those of you drooling over my cakes, I first posted this painting along with my cake recipe on cafecrem.  You might want to read about the ingredients before pilfering these little yellow beauties.  You could end up with visions of sugar plum fairies dancing in your head.  If after reading this warning you still want to break into my house and have some coffee and cake, could you please make my bed, I forgot, and after rewarming the coffee please clean the microwave.


SANTA – skip over this next paragraph to the one where I helped the orphans.

    Carol King writes about underachievement.  She thinks that description applies to her.  She is a regular Leonardo da Vinci compared to me.  I have on occasion reached negative achievement.  How is this possible you wonder.  Here is one example – I decided to start a painting and was  ready to apply paint to canvas when I noticed paint on my new shirt.  This being the shirt my wife told me not to wear because I might get paint on it.  I didn’t ignore her out of disrepect.  Rather, as an experienced painter, I was quite certain I could do my work without getting a smidgen on my being.  Noticing a bit more than a dash of paint that I, as an experienced painter, knew was not going to come out of that shirt, I thought I might have a drink before continuing.  Having spent most of my money for artificial limbs for the cow I ran over, I only had enough to buy the less expensive whiskey.  The first drink of this burned my throat so bad I thought I’d have a second thinking it can’t burn that much with the follow-on glass.   Then I must have dozed off.   I’m not certain if giving my wife an opportunity for a vocal workout counts as achievement.  If so then I’m only slightly negative here.

    I helped the orphans (a lot).

This entry was posted in Painting, Still Life. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to A Little Something For Santa

  1. Carol says:

    Hmmmm, you have overachieved by trying to surpass my underachieving by negative achieving. Interesting!

    and thanks for the compliment.

  2. wrjones says:

    Don’t try to underachieve El Useless, I’ve been a slacker since before that word was derived from the Latin.

  3. kevmoore says:

    Well, you know what they say Initium Sapenti Timor Bovinae – “Wisdom comes first in the fear of the Cow.”

    In a bid to ease your pain regarding the painter’s enemy – namely “splashback” I would refer you to the painter whom I will call “Miki” to protect her anonymity…damn! I mean, er, ethel. She seems to have constructed a parallel career whilst painting her expanding collection of works, that of managing to cover herself with enough daubs and droplets to qualify herself as a work of art in her own right. I suggest you use this excuse with your wife when she starts to bend your ear about soiling your shirt. After all, if Tracey Emin can get away with calling an unmade bed art, Bill’s shirt should be hanging in the Louvre.

  4. wrjones says:

    Is that the derivation of “Cow-ard”? I had to study Latin in school. The teachers might as well have spent their time pounding sand down a rat hole.

    Ethel has a lot of positive vib that will tend to throw paint, particularly water color, in all directions. She could also be a secret self painter. When she is asleep, check behind her ears for small landscapes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s