The Ghost of Christmas Past

Hi folks,
so the season of gift-giving is here, oh joy, oh rapture. And 'tis also the season of giving without profit motive, to give of your heart with absolutely no expectation of return. Um. I think that'll have to wait until next year. Because, see, the guy I'm dating has a Zippo lighter. It's a really nice one, silver, very old skool, with his initials engraved on it. And it was given to him by a very special lady-- his ex. Well, that's all very nice, but it would also be nice not to be reminded of her existence every time he lights up a goddamn Marlboro. So this year I'm getting him the Zippo of all Zippos, that'll be gold-plated with some bad-ass skulls and his entire name blasted in diamonds across the back. (And then, some cool Chinese characters which I'll tell him mean "obstacles are opportunity" but really mean ARIEL'S BOYFRIEND, FUCK OFF.)

It's the thought that counts, right?