"...And on his grave stone I want it to read, 'Here lies Sir James Paul McCartney, a pretty cool guy until he wrote that fucking Christmas song."

It's time to stop living in denial. I fucking hate...

Christmas- I've got nothing against snow, presents, gingerbread, togetherness, or peace on Earth. Nor do I have anything against reindeer, Jesus (you know, on a personal level), Santa (or his much more awesome helper, Krampus), or gross commercialism. All I really hate is people cramming shit down my throat. I hate Christmas for the same reason that I hate The Beatles, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the book Wicked by Gregory Maguire. They're all perfectly fine things which have been utterly fucking ruined by people who won't shut the fuck up about them and become personally offended when I don't get as jazzed about shit as they do. Except Wicked. That book actually does suck.

But I'm sick of people calling me a Scrooge because I'm not totally fucking pumped for Christmas. I actually enjoy seeing my family, buying gifts for people if I think they'll really enjoy them, cookies, and tiny lights on strings. But I don't see why Christmas should get to appropriate all that fun for itself. That shit can be done year-round. Let's not limit ourselves one day a year to talk to our parents and enjoy soft, ambient lighting. But furthermore, let's not get all bent out of shape if someone doesn't particularly enjoy Christmas. God forbid you have a bad family life, or too little money to buy presents. If someone isn't smiling and jolly this December 25th, give them the greatest gift of all: leave them the fuck alone.

But on the other hand, I really fucking love...

Irritating Christmas Shit- Ten points to the musical geniuses behind I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas, Dominic the Racist Christmas Donkey, and those Fucking Barking Dogs. I want to shake all of your hands for both having a sense of humor and trying to ruin the holidays for everyone. As if It's A Wonderful Life hadn't done that already. Fuck you, George Bailey. Every time a bell rings I say a swear just in hopes that it counterbalances someone getting their wings.