Tag Archives: presents

A few of my (ever-delightful) theories on Christmas (that are sure to piss off the Catholics)

Now that Christmas is fully upon us (it’s Christmas Eve already? WTF), it’s time to clear up a few things about the popular holiday. There are more than a few lies going around about this whole Christmas business, so of course, being my typical opinionated self, I figured I’d dabble in my own theories on the joy and wonder that is Christmas.

Santa Claus is supposed to be mysterious and unseen, not ho-ho-hoing at me while I shop for overpriced gifts. I’m all about the real Santa but I’m not too fond of the idea of getting a picture taken with some creepy wannabe at the mall. If you think about it, every department store Santa whose lap you’ve ever sat on was just some creepy fat guy who put on a red suit and fake beard (unless he had a real one, which is more likely these days). Without the red suit, he would just be some creepy fat guy and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t let my kids sit on the lap of someone who is probably a pedophile. Just saying. I wonder if the department store Santas have to endure a rigorous screening process before being hired?

And even if I did agree with the idea of letting my child sit on some strange man’s lap, doesn’t that kind of kill the magic of Santa Claus? Because that child is going to believe one of two things. 1. They are going to think the creepy man’s lap they are sitting awkwardly upon is the real  Santa Claus, thus ruining the magic. You aren’t supposed to see Santa, you’re just supposed to know he’s there and he’s always watching (also creepy, what about when I’m on the toilet? I don’t want him seeing that). Or 2. they are going to know he isn’t the real Santa, because c’mon, how many fake Santas do you see over the course of about two months? They clearly can’t all be the real Santa, so then you have to wonder why are there so many impersonators? And if this is an impersonator, and you are acknowledging the fact that he’s not the real Santa but simply a fraud, what the hell are you doing sitting on his lap? This is just going to confuse kids and make them resent their parents, who have forced them to, essentially, cuddle up to some strange, smelly man they don’t know. Clearly why most photos with Santa end up looking like this:

scared santa

Retail stores invented the idea of gift-giving. Just like most holidays, I’m convinced it’s the retail stores that somehow incorporated the idea of spending money at Christmastime. I like buying people presents; nothing delights me more than watching their faces light up when they unwrap that thing they’ve been hoping for all year. But we live in such a consumerist society that it makes me vomit in my mouth just a teeny bit. I turned on the news this morning only to hear about mass graves in South Sudan, meanwhile people here in my country are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to buy last-minute presents for people who probably don’t deserve them anyway. If we’re going to spend money and give gifts, why not give them to the people that actually need them? A few years ago, I suggested to my family we no longer buy each other Christmas presents. As the baby of the family, it seemed a bit silly to be buying presents for each other when we could be putting that money spent to better use. For the last few years, instead of buying friends and family presents they really didn’t need, I’ve been buying presents to donate to Toys for Tots. So the next time you’re about to ask someone to buy you something for Christmas, maybe think about how lucky you are to have the things you already do have and ask them to spread the wealth, instead.

And for that matter, if you want to argue that the idea of gift-giving came from the idea that three kings (it was 3, right?) brought baby Jesus presents on his birthday, which is “supposedly” why we celebrate Christmas in the first place (tell that to anyone who buys Christmas presents), well then why does everyone else get presents? Shouldn’t we just be buying them for a tiny, baby-Jesus-like person? Or just leaving them in a barn somewhere?

I’m going to hell for that one. Moving on.

Anti-environmentalists started the tradition of the Christmas tree. I think it’s pretty obvious that anyone who hates the environment would decide to chop down an Evergreen and put it up on display in their living room. Now don’t get me wrong, my family and I used to cut down our own tree every year when I was younger, and it was one of my favorite traditions. The lights,  the ornaments, the smell of the pine needles permeating the house. But I would still mourn the loss of that tree’s life, especially once the season was over and we had nothing to do but haul the dying tree out to the woods to rot. It’s very similar to the idea of mourning the turkey I eat on Thanksgiving. I’m still going to eat it, and it’s still going to taste delicious, but I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor bastard, simply because someone long ago decided a turkey would be the traditional Thanksgiving feast. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite in your eyes, but I don’t really give a tiny rat’s ass. Besides, this post isn’t about my hypocrisy in life, of which there is probably an abundance, it’s about my theories on Christmas. Anyway, I can’t imagine why people are so eager to destroy the plant and animal life around them, without ever any regard for any other living thing but themselves. It’s like when I am constantly yelling at my students for ripping the leaves off of trees, reminding them that they wouldn’t like it if someone pulled their fingers off one by one. Oh, you don’t want me teaching your child? Get over it.

cat ate birdChristians clearly feel the need to one-up the Jews. Think about it. Jews have 8 days of Hanukkah while Christians feel they need to have Twelve Days of Christmas. Who invented that song, anyway? What the hell is a partridge doing in a pear tree, and why would anyone want that? If you ask me, those are terrible gifts to receive.

I have so many more theories about Christmas, life, the universe, everything… But I think that’s enough to get your own brain thinking as you tear through your presents tomorrow morning. Or at the very least, I’ve given you something to bring to the dinner table tomorrow when you can’t take anymore of your great-aunt’s cheek-pinching or your baby cousin’s crying or your uncle’s inappropriate comments.

Until next year, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

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12 last-minute Christmas gift ideas (that are sure to “wow” them)

Over the years, I’ve written some cynical posts about Christmas trees and wish lists that would never be granted. But amongst all my nonsensical ramblings, I’ve yet to write anything on the topic of Christmas and gift buying, never once touching on the types of gifts that should be under everyone’s tree (or pants- more about that later). So for those of you last-minute shoppers (we in the literary world like to call you “procrastinators”) who haven’t yet decided what to deck your friends’ halls with, here are 12 last-minute gift ideas that are sure to wow them. And give Santa a heart attack.

12.) Bankruptcy. Whether you get it for yourself or for someone else, it’s a gift that’s sure to last for years to come.

11.) A flea infestation. If you get this for me, I will have to kill you. And regift it (preferably back to you). Been there, done that.

10.) A gym membership. Nothing says “I love you” and “Merry Christmas” more than telling someone they’re fat and out of shape.

9.) Identity theft. Perfect way to ring in the new year. 

8.) Broken bones. Hit them with a baseball bat, run them over with your car, whatever gets the job done.

7.) Front row seats to a Justin Bieber concert. This present is especially perfect for anyone over the age of 18 who actually has good taste in music.

6.) Diarrhea. Just squirt some eye drops into their eggnog. Or feed them McDonald’s.

5.) Jail time. Accomplice to murder, co-conspirator to a coup d’etat, grand theft auto. The choices are endless.

4.) A divorce. Because who doesn’t love getting their heart ripped out on Christmas?

3.) Fruit cake. No comment necessary.

2.) A hooker. But only if the recipient is a woman. Clearly what every woman wants for the holidays.

And a herpes new year.

MERRY-CHRISTMAS-YA-FILTHY-ANIMAL

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Why Valentine’s Day is (still) a pointless holiday

This time last year, I was happily in a relationship with someone I cared about and yet I still wrote my mini-rant about why Valentine’s Day is a pointless holiday. Because it is.

And this year, although I’m single, I wouldn’t say I’m any more bitter about this dumb holiday than I was when I was in love. I’m still about the same amount of bitter, except now I don’t feel so hypocritical about it. Because really, who wants to hear some lovebird go on and on about how much they can’t stand fake holidays about being in love? And you’re only getting the half of it; try being inside my head all day long. Exactly.

Moving on.

I’d honestly almost forgotten about this silly consumerist holiday (more so because I can’t keep track of what day it is and less-so because I don’t make it a point to remember stupid things like fake holidays, but that kind of negates my whole point, so scratch that).

But I’m always interested to see what crazy and not-so-crazy search terms people use to wind up at my blog (I still find it rather strange that someone, at some time, searched “how many people are in the pumba costume in disney on ice” and found my blog, but whatever). So while perusing the search terms section of my stats page, I noticed a spike in the number of times someone was redirected to my awesomely awesome blog after searching something like “Valentine’s Day pointless” or “stupid Valentine’s Day” or “is Valentine’s Day pointless blog” or, you get the picture. So then I remembered- tomorrow is Valentine’s Day (or today, for those of you ahead of me in time-zone-landia).

Holidays like Valentine’s Day just serve as a stark reminder of everything that is wrong with society. Like forcing someone to buy you presents to show you how much they love you, what is that about? Don’t you get enough presents on your birthday and Christmas? And if you want something that badly, go out and get a job and pay for it yourself, you spoiled, materialistic little thug.

And even if you don’t put a literal gun to their head and tell them to buy you something, there’s still the assumption on your part that they’re going to and the internal gun to their head telling them they have to. Or else. God forbid your lover doesn’t acknowledge you on Valentine’s Day. Think the world might have just come to an end (again).

I might have taken it a little too far just then, sorry about that. All this Valentine’s Day chocolate is going to my head.

All in all, though, Valentine’s Day is a pointless holiday, and I’m (still) mad at Hallmark for creating it and not hiring me to write greeting cards for them and basing their headquarters out of Kansas (seriously, who wants to live in Kansas, anyway?). I will just have to start my own Hallmark-like greeting card company and not base it out of Kansas and write anti-Valentine’s Day cards and shower my wit and cynicism all over the world (or at least over those dumb enough to buy my crap).

Until that happens, I’ll continue blogging about random nonsense in hopes that someone with an even more random search term fetish will stumble across my blog and give me something to really write home about. Something even crazier than “zoo animal mob sexxx.” With three x’s.

Couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

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Why birthdays are irrelevant (and why getting old sucks)

Getting old kind of sucks.

Not in the usual sucky-suck way, when you just can’t stand something and you’d rather chew off your own arm than have to face it (although I probably shouldn’t make zombie jokes when there’s been so much of it in the media lately), but in a general sense, as far as birthdays go, it sucks.

I turned 23 a few days ago. Yes, I realize 23 is not that old. But it just reminds me how pointless birthdays are and how depressing that “special” day that’s all yours really is.

The happy birthday email I got from my dad’s dive shop. I was actually excited about this.

Now don’t get me wrong, this is not me whining that not enough people reached out to me on my birthday. If there’s one day guaranteed to bring all the random Facebook friends you have on your profile out of the woodworks to actually acknowledge you, it’s your birthday. So between the posts on my timeline, the texts from close friends and the phone calls from family, I got a good amount of attention (not that I really wanted it, but still).

But the lack of “hoopla” just reminded me how much getting old sucks. First of all, birthdays are really only meaningful when you’re young, and you get cool toys and huge parties thrown in your honor and you’re actually super excited to have a birthday (mainly for the presents, but still). So as an adult, there’s not much to really look forward to except that you’re another year old, another year closer to wrinkles and grey hair and death.

Birthdays are just another reminder of how time moves faster and faster the older you get, of how impossible it is to slow it down and stop it from happening. Sometimes I wish I could just freeze time for a little bit, at least until I can accomplish all things I said I wanted to by 23. Sometimes life gets in the way of having a life.

Maybe I’m just being melodramatic because it’s been rainy here and I couldn’t go to the beach on my birthday. And sure, there are plenty of great reasons why it’s cool to be an adult, but now that I’m 23, I feel old. Like I crossed a line in the sand I can’t step back over; 22 still seemed young, but 23? Being 23 makes me feel old. And it sucks. The end.

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