I guess it's that time of year again - when the new hot toy becomes a point of conversation among adults, when we go out and purposely spend money on sweaters that are "ugly", when we force ourselves to overindulge in sugary baked goods that give us diarrhea, and when we spend a fortune on cards that we know the other person is going to throw away. Yes, 'tis the season for sitting in a room filled with idiots, drinking, smoking, grinding your teeth, cussing out the kids and wishing to Hell you'd have done something meaningful with your life that would have taken you far, far away from this place. 

If you're in the Religious camp, this is the time of year you believe a man named Yeshua (Greek = Jesus) was born to a virgin. Well...not really. He was born some other time of year, right? It's just that we celebrate his unknown birthday on December 25th, because...well, because, damnit! We most certainly do NOT coincidentally celebrate Christmas on the same day as the Roman Winter Solstice feast of Dies Natalis Solis Invicti as a result of some ancient and cynical ploy to match up with those barbarians (zing), the Romans. (By the way, Christianity is just a purposeful mashup of other bogus religions, and Santa isn't real. Sorry to break it to you this way.) No, we just lie to ourselves, believe whatever we want and go on with our lives because it's a hell of a lot easier than facing the fact of Death (well, not really, but I digress...)

Or maybe you don't care about babies and virgins (woah, let's not get too ahead of ourselves!); you just want something good to eat, a couple candles, and some goddamned peace and quiet! Well, bub, good luck. The food's always overcooked, someone in the family hates you, and you spent way too much money this year (like every fucking year) on shit that's going to clutter up some other jerk's space. Might as well have spent it on some potholders, or a tub of ice cream, or goddamnit, anything for yourself. After all, how many more bad gifts must you receive before you throw one to the ground and scream, "If I wanted this, I would have fucking bought it myself years ago!" No...if I were you, I would get out to the casino and spend a wad of cash on myself like a real fucking loser would - might as well live up to everyone's expectations!

In any case, whether you chose to hide your alcoholism via liquor-imbibed egg/cream slurries, or whether you're an obnoxious sweater-wearing pipe-smoking long-bearded hipster that only gives people locally sourced non-polluting coal as some kind of awkward joke that NO ONE FUCKING GETS BUT YOU, I'm lifting a glass to you, pretend-clinking in the air, and saying, "Fuck off and die. Let's get this over with."