2007-11-26T00:19:45-08:00

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2007-12-01T22:28:43-08:00

2007-11-26T00:19:45-08:00

Okay, its only been three days since Thanksgiving and I'm already fucking sick of Christmas. Remember when you used to wait until December before the Christmas season started? Fuck, the music stations here were already occaisonally playing Christmas music starting last week and now they're on full tilt. On the country and oldies station, every other fucking song is a Christmas one.   This means I've switched over to the other stations that I don't like listening to. That normally wouldn't be a problem, but Lafayette radio stations suck. If you listen to the Top 40 stations, you hear the song seven times in 45 minutes. Maybe not that bad, but pretty fucking close. The kids turned the radio on at work today and I heard that "faster, longer, harder, stronger" song three times in less than 90 minutes. No shit. I could listen to the rock station, but its even worse. Their playlist consists almost entirely of about 12 greatest hits cd's. All they play are Guns 'N Roses, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Nickelback, Ozzy, Red Hot Chile Peppers, Lynyrd Skynyrd and a couple of others. They play almost nothing new. Oh yeah, they also play Pearl Jam, but everytime before they play it they let you know "if it wasn't for us, you'd have never heard of them." How the fuck is a little rock station in Indiana going to claim credit for discovering Pearl Jam, a band out of Seattle? They don't play anything unless other stations play it for about six months first.   Then, theres' work. They're already getting ready to play the Christmas CD. The ONE Christmas CD they have, over and over and over again. That's a whole lotta fun on a ten hour shift. I'm ready to strangle an elf and kick a reindeer in the nuts twenty minutes after I clock in. Plus, we got to decorate our stockings the other day. Woo hoo! Unless there's a winning lotto ticket in that thing X-mas day, I don't really give a fuck. Fun thing is, we HAD to decorate one. Glad there aren't any Jewish kids in our store. I didn't see any candlesticks or dreidels laying around waiting for the glitter glue to spruce them up.   If you haven't guessed yet, I'm not much of a Christmas fan. Not really sure why though. Could be because its another holiday you're supposed to spend with your family. Oh goody! More likely, its because the bars are closed and so is everything else for that matter, so its a lot harder to get away from your family. Then, there's always this story.   Not sure how old I was at the time, but it was pretty young, we still believed in Santa. It was the year the very first Nintendo came out, the one with Duck Hunt on it. All me and my brother wanted for Christmas that year was a Nintendo. We start opening up presents and about a third of the way thru, we open up a Nintendo game. Now we're bouncing off the walls, jumping up and down, happiest days of our lives. We're getting a fucking Nintendo and now we KNOW it. (Just a little note here, at our house, one person opens up one present at a time, youngest to oldest, so that's why we're not tearing through everything as fast as possible.) We open up a few more presents and get a couple more games and an extra controller. We are fucking psyched. Now, we start looking around for the big box that has the actual console in it. We spot a big box in the stack that's for both of us from Santa and open it together. Its not the Nintendo, but something else. Crap. Then we open up the other big one. Still not the Nintendo. Fuck. Okay, maybe Santa's just a dick and gave just one of us the Nintendo so they can lord it over the other sibling....that's okay, as long as its somewhere in my stack.   At this point, both of us are organizing what's left into the largest boxes followed by the smaller ones. We're all set! We're ready. We're running out of big boxes. Now its my turn and its the last halfway big/medium box left. This has got to be the Nintendo. I start opening it, ready to rub it in my brother's face that its MY Nintendo. I open it up......and its a sweater and socks placed in a big box. WHAT THE FUCK!!!! SANTA FUCKED US OVER! At this point, the tears are starting to flow. We each have a couple of presents left, but nothing that is big enough to be a Nintendo....could it? We open the last few, hopeful that maybe the system is a lot smaller than what it looked like in stores or that Santa magically made it smaller and easier to wrap. My brother opens his last box. No game, now he's bawling hysterically. My turn....only problem is, my last box is about the size of a deck of cards. That better be some fucking good Santa magic. Open it up, its some packs of baseball cards. Now both of us are hysterically crying. We're moving around the wrapping paper trying to see if me missed something, but nope, no more presents. After a few minutes of searching....guess what? Mom finds one more present way back in the corner for our Dad....and its from Santa. Yup, its the fucking Nintendo. At this point, I hope Santa gets raped by a rabid reindeer. What can I say, my parents are dicks. That is honestly the last year I can remember looking forward to Christmas. I think this explains a lot about why I am the way I am. My parents still think its funny. Merry fucking Christmas.   So are you in the Christmas spirit or ready for it to be January already? Do you think my parents are dicks or think its actually pretty funny? Got any Christmas horror stories of your own? Got any idea what the fuck figgy pudding is?     14075

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2007-12-01T22:28:43-08:00