Christmas is just around the bend, my tattered old tennis sock with two yellow stripes at the calf hangs thumbtacked to the wall above where my fireplace ought to be. Three candycanes poke their akward bodies from its mouth. I bet they’ll taste like sweat. Im baking sugar cookies that i cut into six sided stars, because jewish cookies taste sweeter for some reason. I even hung a sock for Abe, hoping that he’d see it from the fire escape when he inevitably checked in on me. And i filled it with bits of lettuce and tomato so that he’d remember what he was missing. Right now i am wrapping a gift for my new friend Giuseppe. Its deodorant. The good stuff, mitchum, the smelly mans deodorant. Geuseppi is definitely a smelly man. Giusieppe certainly needs some of this. I bought it in his line at the grocery store, smiled boyishly as i handed him the money for his christmas gift while he was nonethewiser. Oh Giuseppi, how I almost blurted out with excitement that this gift was meant for you.