May All Your Balls Be Shiny

ballsI was thinking’ the other day about how Christmas has changed for me …
When I was a kid, it was all magical, and wonderful and full of surprise …
everywhere ya’ looked, it was a winter wonderland, the halls were decked, and the lights, they were a’ twinkling.
Kids built snowmen and frolicked merrily in the snow …
Families gathered to share the Christmas spirit and everywhere ya’ looked, it was “the magic of Christmas” …
It was all lovely and serene …
Now, not so much …
I just read that Santa’s getting’ groped at the mall by some woman who is probably only hoping to get a new Xbox One-S in return …
The mayor of one of the most affluent cities on the planet pulled his yearly Christmas-y ‘kick the homeless out of their tent-city’ because, well, I have no idea why, I guess he didn’t want the local retailers to lose any Christmas sales or something …
And the stars are all lining up to do the annual Christmas extravaganzas on TV …
Fuck.
Except that this year, due to the unavailability of any real new talent, we’ll be treated to even worse drivel and re-run crap than usual … if that’s even possible.
The also annual ( like the Asian flu ) Xmas movies have already started and will go on until at least New Year’s or so … and if i see Alasdair friggin’ Sim doing friggin’ scrooge, one more friggin’ time, I’m gonna scream … I’ve been through that thing so many bloody times that I now see it and think fuck tiny Tim, fuck his family and fuck all the poor people in that movie … enough … let the poor bastards buy their own freakin’ turkeys. And, if there is one more “re-make” of the bloody movie, whether it’s some washed up Hollywood star or another Mr. Magoo like cartoon version, I will personally blow up the local t.v. transmitters …
And that brings up to everyone’s favorite whiny lil’ bitch, Jimmy Frickin’ Stewart.
Do us all a great big freakin’ favor and jump this year … yup, ya’ heard me right Jimbo …
JUMP! this year, surprise us all, and do the world favor and jump of that bridge …
then I might watch that piece o’ crap …
No-one cares, no-one ever did or ever will whether or not you get the meaning of Christmas or not Jimmy, and we’re sure as hell not gonna get it from a movie about a suicidal, bitchy, whining under achiever with the social skills of a Trump kid.
Jeez, I hate that piece o’ crap movie …
arrgghh! … there, I feel a little better … and without the use of narcotics, I might add.
Well, for now anyways … no promises, k?
Then there’s the “ode to rock ‘n’ roll” attempt by network television to ‘reel in the youngins’.
Good Lord … I promise y’all, right here and now, that if I even think I hear Bing singing’ White Christmas with David Bowie again this year the T.V. is gonna meet a well tossed brick …
I can’t even begin to describe the million or so fucking ways that that video is/was/always will be a very strange and bad idea …
The “do” on Bowie alone is enough to freak out any sane man, and the “white guy” dancing that he does during the video … well … my mom always said, “if ya’ got nothing nice to say, then …. “
And Celine Dion, do not, and i repeat DO NOT grace my family’s living room with ANY of yer’ alien, mantis-dancing and nasal, over singing … and girlfriend, eat some fucking turkey this Christmas … yer’ about as skinny as a stick o’ macaroni girl, and it ain’t sexy.
Go on, you can do it babe, and you can certainly afford it, just friggin’ eat something …
and quit telling’ everyone yer’ Canadian … they’re all denying it and it just makes ya’ look stranger … if that’s at all possible … I mean geez girl, yer’ starting’ to look like the secret love child of Karen Carpenter and Marcel Marceau … knock it off and have some back bacon and maple syrup and a couple of Molsons ya’ wack … and take that Bieber punk with ya’ … we’re all really sick of that act.
And, lest i forget …
The malls …
Those halls o’ decrepit humanity are just hummin’ this time of year …
Ya’ can’t even move for all the lost souls wandering aimlessly to and fro’, looking as hungry and confused as a bunch of zombies at a Trump family reunion … wandering lifelessly, just praying they find that final present, you know the one that says “here, I remembered you at the last minute.”
I’ve gotten to the point that I’d rather eat my own leg off, or watch friends re-runs, than to go to the mall … and I don’t care if my loved ones hate me (ya’, like that’d be any different the other 360 or so days ) for doing it, but there’s a new way in town …
yer’ gettin’ cash this year … maybe a snack too, if ya’ been nice … we’ll see …
so go get yer’ own shit … i’m not going in those places ever again unless “I” need something … done deal … deal with it people … (“my own ‘human child units’ all just went “yay!, ’bout time dad!”) (a quick but serious note to my own kids … NO candles, potpourri or Xmas cake for dad, or even the cash will dry up … instantly … got it? … okay? … good talk)
christmas_comics_10_thumbAnother thing that’s just making’ me nuts right now is the human menagerie, or maybe that’s human remains, i’m not sure, that they call “mall santas” …
I don’t ever recall seeing a more disreputable, criminal and moldier looking crew anywhere, at any time … Well, there was that one Trump rally in Mississippi, but Trump Rallies are their own special category, so that don’t count really.
It’s kinda like lunch break at a prison camp … and these guys tend to look more like Mickey Rourke or Kenny Rogers than Santa … I mean, the guy down the street at the local mall, strikes me as the type to steal children and keep them in a cave somewhere, dressed as elves … and I’m pretty sure that the cave would be in his dead (“but still with us up in her room”) mom’s rat infested basement suite … (and I’m also pretty sure he’s both a Trump supporter AND a Mac user) … and he seems to be the best I’ve seen this year.
Seriously, the rest had the feel of something between a crack streets alley sleeper and the guy who just “got out” and scored that great job as the local scout leader / priest …
It’s no freakin’ wonder our kids scream and yell when they see Santa … as I’ve said many times, when it comes to strangers and how to judge them, I just ask my kids and my dog … they know… and that mom and dad is genuine fear you see when ya’ dump yer’ kid in that soiled, hammered, semi-damp, too often aroused lap ya’ like to call the “mall Santa” …
but, the worst thing people, is that this year Xmas seemed to start somewhere around the end of September … i mean, we’re out way early looking for Halloween costumes and the Wal-Mart kid is hanging reindeer up …
Good Christ man, a little eager? …
what?? … Wallymart didn’t make enough money this year ?? …
so, by November first I’ve had all the bloody xmas and lights and snow and expenses and joyeux fucking noels I can possibly handle without going off like some lonely, depressed emo with his dad’s hunting rifle …
and, at that point, we still got three fucking months to go until it’s finally all done and gone again … for another nine or so months …
and don’t even get me going on the expense of it all …
the North American Christmas “prove-ya-love-me-buy-me-cool-shit-swap-fest” we like to call the “holy season” … more like the “holy fuck, I’m broke again!” season …
Wouldn’t it all just make more sense for everyone over the age of ten to just buy themselves something they actually want instead? …
Think about it, no more potpourri, no more candles, no more bloody Xmas cake OR bad colognes that make parts of your anatomy itch and turn an odd shade of reddish-green under the silver artificial tree …
no more really ugly, bad-fitting “outfits” that ya’ now hafta wear all fucking day, just in case the doddering, totally senile and VERY bitter auntie that bought it for you shows up to do her yearly “smells-like-death” choochie-cheek, lipstick up to here kissing circle …
like last year …
like every god-damned year …
my cheeks still hurt from last year and it took nearly two weeks to get the turquoise eye plaster and ruby red lip grease off my face …
like my son says “some shit just don’t wash off dad” …
(note to son: for more reasons than ya’ know kid)
no more books you’ll never even open or ties that make ya’ throw up a little in yer’ mouth, or sweaters that some blind, handless great aunt has knitted ya’ …
just get yer’ own cool, just what ya’ always wanted, hand-picked shit …
easy …
fool proof …
perfect plan eh?…
a little greedy, lazy, and self-serving I know, but, tell the truth, for a second there, you were thinking’ “yeah , this could work, I’m digging’ this …”
oh well, works 4 me! …
finally, there’s the most dreaded of all meteorological events and deep personal traumas …
the family gathering …
personally, i have long since stopped attending as many of these morbid and gut wrenchingly dark affairs and the reasons are many and, I feel, completely valid …
and I sure as hell proved that the restraining orders were valid …
oh, well, that’s a story for another time, I’ll just say that we’re all real sorry about the whole drunken, naked, “manger-gate” fiasco,
and we still intend to pay for the donkey …
(we hear he’s actually recovering nicely and that with the appropriate therapy will be able to be around garden gnomes and papal figures again) …
anyways, back to the family …
who doesn’t love that forced, fake small talk drunkenness at some doddering old auntie’s home that we call ‘Xmas at the in-laws’ …
should be called ‘Xmas at the outlaws’ if ya’ ask me…
you know, where yer’ semi-creepy, always strange uncle Bob finally and vehemently professes his long standing lust for his own aunt …
and that gets ‘yer drunken cousin to suddenly wake up and think that it’s now okay to finally kiss that first cousin he’s been fantasizing about since he was 13 …
with tongue …
and she likes it …
Then at the table, old, plastered and ever bitter Uncle Joe leans over to his 70 year old, tea-totaler, devoutly Christian, little sister and while spitting mashed potatoes like a snow blower in December, slurs out “I never liked you anyways … ya’ bitch.” … and, it’s on.
Like a bad Andy Capp cartoon we got two uncles and a cousin rolling’ around, fighting’ like drunken high school girls at a keg party, two first cousins making’ out under the mistletoe and a couple o’ aunties just saying “fuck this, gimme a double vodka, straight up … it’ll go great with these Xanax … Xanax anyone?” …
but, it’s family, so …
ya’ gotta love it …
’tis the season!
so, merry bloody Xmas one and all …
and to all, a good freakin’ night …
now turn out the lights and shut the hell up before I come down there and open up a can o’ Xmas whoop-ass! …
I bin’ drinking’, and I gots me the Christmas spirit …
ho ho freakin’ ho! …
First thing in the morning, before all the liquor getas a chance to wear off I’m gonna haul my ever aging ass down to the local shopping mall and sucker-punch some drunken Santa right in the face …
just ‘cuz!

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