Ladies and gentlemen, it's that time of year again. That's right--it's that time of year when we nearly kill people to buy a not-as-cheap-as-those-tricky-stores-lead-you-to-believe gift for that special someone*. No, I'm not just talking about Black Friday. I'm talking about the whole month leading up to the pagan ritualized, overly commercialized celebration of the wrong date, by about 2 and a half months--scientifically speaking**--that our Lord and savior Cthulu was born from the loins of a virgin Kracken.***
That's right: I'm talking about Christmas. Do you remember how happy you were when you were stupid? Waking up early in the morning on Christmas? I certainly do. I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes to listen for the footsteps of an imaginary man, who never actually came, to deliver gifts under a tree that I later learned had absolutely nothing to do with the religion that I was brought up on. Then, later that morning, I'd get out of bed when my parents told me "it's time to come downstairs now," and I would run downstairs to see a living room littered with pine needles and debt in the form of neatly wrapped presents as far as the eye could see.**** Soon after, I'd check on some half-eaten cookies--made by my mother for not-Santa--that a supposed bearded man came to eat.
New Nintendo games, new board games, new clothes--I received everything I ever wanted, and sometimes more. This event was a reassurance that, even if I was a little shit during the majority of the year, some fat guy in a red suit made a list--and checked it twice--of all the girls and boys he crept on during the year and chose me as a "good kid." To be honest, I was one of those "end of life" Christian types when it came to the "good kid" schpeel, i.e. if I did something wrong during the early parts of the year, I'd start to make sure I was making less mistakes, and doing less "wrongs," and overall being "good" by the end of the year, which for me, during the ages before 10, was whether I was annoying my parents or not. It worked every time like clockwork.
Now that I'm older, smarter, less-ignorant of the Christmas fable--I swear elf-on-a-shelf is real. That demon spawn of Tom Cruise's witchcraft moves on its own--I'm also grumpy. Now, I fully understand that MONEY is what puts the gifts under the tree. It's hard to believe that I'm only 13-14 years separated from this enlightenment, which means I've only been not-stupid for that long. And now that I'm not-stupid AND have money that means: It's time to accumulate some debt on my own accord. Having about 50 grand in student loan debt does not make being in more debt sound too thrilling. In fact, it sucks. For the next 6 to 7 months after Christmas, I'm trying to get all of that money back just so we can get back to the original 50 grand of student loan debt that still needs to be paid.
What's that? I've accumulated late fees? 60 thousand now? Well, merry-turduckin'-Christmas to me.*****
*Hopefully they ma-ma-ma-make you happy. (See Tropic Thunder for that reference)
**Yes, it's true. The birth of Jesus Christ--no, not Cthulu--was most likely in March given accurate astronomical data.
***This whole piece is strictly satire. I'M JOKING. (Except maybe that part about people killing people over Black Friday/The Holidays. Unfortunately, that is somehow NOT satire.)
****IT'S SATIRE!! CALM DOWN!
*****CHRISTMAS IN JULY! >:O
- PatInTheHat
No comments:
Post a Comment