Surviving the Holdays

   I'm back readers, and have become more powerful then you could ever imagine. By more powerful, however, I more sincerely mean fatter. I've only recently awakened out of my Thanksgiving food/tryptophan coma - which came directly after my Halloween candy cesspool experience - and am now in time to discuss the rest of the holiday season. And how I'm totally incapable of enjoying most of it. (Cue 'oh, he's anti Christmas' comments (if any comments))

   Mostly because I hate socks, and getting them.

   Besides that though, I cannot possibly enjoy the holiday season because of how not prepared or properly geared for it. First in the list of grievances is how vomit-inducingly expensive everything has become. I'm genuinely stuck between being a responsible adult and paying my rent and feeding myself, or being a good, seasonally altruistic person and buy a present for one or five of my family members. And that's still excluding any friends I should buy for. Honestly, having to decide between a macaroni art portrait or eating the macaroni should never be a actual question. Anywhere.

Mostly because none of my friends are very fond of Rosie O'Donnell.

   The other thing is the terrible Christmas music. Jingle Bells and Deck the Halls haven't exactly been at the forefront of musical innovation since... well, since their invention. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra has since been the greatest thing to ever happen to Christmas, and even they have become stale. All I want for Christmas is not another replay of Mariah Carey's voice in the grocery store. Then again, there are those musicians I'm glad don't have a Christmas album.

   Good thing I have a Christmas album.

Oh. Nevermind. Apparently I don't have one, this guy does. Son of a Bitch.

   Lastly, is the food. While I am nothing but enthused about stuffing my face to the point of public embarrassment, the holiday season is the worst time to be eating vast sums of food. Between the dramatic changes in weather, the gaining an hour of sleep, and the sun being completely set by pretty much noon, eating this -

Will usually lead to this:

And last time I checked, I had to go to work. Therefore, I become a groggy, cranky, unbearable thing come Christmas time.

I think there's a pattern here.

   Well, whether you agree with me or not on the matter of Christmas, I do wish other people a good holiday. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go decorate a conifer tree with gaudy lights, call it a miracle, and then go get slap-happy tipsy off Egg Nog.