Goddammit how I hate the holidays. In words I cannot begin to type without getting my ass thrown off the MySpace, I hate the holidays. I would enter the dockworkers' blue language hall of fame if I could write everything I feel about the gdngmfcspfsebl holidays. Use your imagination.
I hate the crass commercialism. I hate the blatant cheer. I hate the excessive consumerism. I hate the societal expectations, the stress, the disillusionment, and the countless additions to my already bloated task list. I hate traveling at the holidays with all the stupid amateurs who bitch when airport security rips open a package so they can make sure it isn't a dirty bomb. I hate all the fattening food. I can't frickin' stand "Jingle Bell Rock" or "Frosty the Snowman".
I do like the boozing, though. I can get behind getting drunk. It makes me forget the hellaciousness of the holidays.
I like going to church. Yes, I mean it. I am not blaspheming. And don't worry, that lightning bolt won't come anywhere near you. It's meant for me. I get one moment of serenity at the holidays. It's either at a holiday service or it's late at night, in the dark, with only a couple of candles to light the house.
December. What's to flippin' like? It's cold, it's dark, it's gloomy. It's ridden with holidays that interrupt the regular flow of life. July. THERE'S a month to get behind.
Every damn positive memory I have of this holiday comes with an equally negative one.
If this holiday were outlawed I would not give a crap. Fuck the holidays. Fuck 'em hard.