Now we can break out the Bing….

Posted: November 27, 2011 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , ,

Call me old-fashioned, but I want absolutely jack dick to do with Christmas until after the ol’ Thanksgiving Turkey has been offered up to the porcelain goddess.  I don’t want to see ornaments, wreathes, or that fat Arctic bastard until after I don’t want to even think about pumpkin pie.   After all, I am a big proponent of #OccupyThanksgiving, just for the tongue-in-cheek point of it all.  My point?  Quit giving in to retailers like a bunch of lemmings.

Yes, I realize that my hijacking of the term has nothing to do with the protest… or does it?  My dogged refusal to get into the retail spirit (note: not Christmas Spirit) until the time was nigh was about as stalwart as the campers of OWS.

Let me enjoy my goddamn holidays, you bastards!

Damn skippy. Sometimes you gotta take time to eat a traditional holiday freaking dinner.

However now?  Now Rosie can put down the middle finger every time I see Christmas lights, or a Menorah, or a Kwanzaa…  whatever it is that Kwanzaa has that is indicative of the holiday.  Not that it’s any less viable, I just know exactly jack dick about it.  Anyway, such tomfoolery and assjackery aside, I can feel free to enjoy the impending holiday in a timely fashion.

Oh yes, it’s time to enjoy the classic tunes– as well as the Bob & Tom specials.  Now I can joyously giggle at a carrot dick on a snowman, the redneck days of Christmas, Sandler’s Chanukah Song (all 3 versions), and the South Park kids…  This also means I can pop open my 11-month-sealed folder and break out the Bing Crosby.  It doesn’t matter to me, I’ll blare the classic tunes that I grew up on– and my neighbors damn well better be thankful that I don’t rush my holidays like the rest of the nation.

Nothing says love like beating your kid with a sack of Valencia oranges!

That's right, real music, none of these mass-produced, auto-tuned piles of steaming crapola. Complete with classy drinks.

It’s that time to break out the holiday tunes.  Now, since it’s time to hit the highway— and haul nuggets.  No time to proofread, it’s time to set some land speed records with the Star Destroyer (aka my car).

Oh, by the way— this entry #50, as if any of you care.

Unplug.

 

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Comments
  1. LisaaLinh says:

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