The 100% true story about how the California Raisins and I saved Christmas:

It was the summer of 2001, and I had just made a bold move to Victoria. I would be starting up in school the following Autumn, but figured it would be a good idea to move early to get a good feel for the city. Here's the kicker: I didn't know anyone. I was bored to tears day in and day out until one day, when I went to pick up a box of raisins at the store. There was two kinds of raisins: regular, which at $0.99 a box was quite a deal, or California, which were retailing for $53.00 a box. Despite the hefty price, the California raisins had a pretty box, so I paid the $53.00, and took the raisins home.

The box sat up in the cupboard for about a week before I actually got around to opening it. I was making some banana bread, and thought that the raisins would be a nice addition. I tore open the top of the box, and something hit me in the face. Hard.
Along with all of the non-alive raisins in the box, there was some that were actually living, and they were pissed. I guess I left them in the box too long, but what was I supposed to do? I can't spend my entire life centered around a bunch of dried grapes, can I? Man.

Despite our rocky start, it turned out that the raisins were actually pretty decent guys, they just weren't fans of being held captive in a box for a week. Let me tell you, these guys were party animals. They invited me to some of the best parties I'd ever been to, like the time that Urkel had a party in the woods, and He-Man went swimming naked in the ocean.

Anyway, so we're at this party this one day (I think it was thrown by Inspector Gadget, if I'm not mistaken), and Santa Claus is there. You know when someone gets so wasted that all they can do is smile, hug, and point at you? Santa was beyond that point. He was just laying on the floor, breathing audibly and making noises like an injured panther. I keep checking on him, because, at that time, I was the "responsible one" out of everyone in the crew. I even had a shirt that said "responsible one", and every time I went to parties, people would look at the shirt and say "yep, you sure are".

So I keep checking on him, and all of a sudden, the panther noises stop. The loud breathing stops. Oh no.
The California Raisins and I spring into action. The raisins crawl down his throat, and find six hot dogs and half of a cowboy hat in his airways. What do we do? Of course, I jump on Santa's chest, and dislodge the hat, the hot dogs, and the raisins.

When Santa sobered up, he thanked us by giving us the key to the North Pole, which I lost down a well the following weekend at Baby Jessica's 15th anniversary "Out of the Well and Still Crazy as Hell" party.

Today's 100% true story was brought to you by crippling boredom.

Can I get serious for a second?
Guys, this is the third day in a row that I haven't had any patients at the clinic. I have read three newspapers, three magazines, and have been to literally every page on the internet. The doctor is back tomorrow, so you won't have to read any more true stories until the next time she goes away. Promise.