How Santa Will Make My Son An Episode Of Intervention

It’s the holidays!

And you know how I know?

Because everyone’s becoming just a bit more of an asshole than they normally are. Even the kids! Hell, the dog has even gotten into the holiday spirit by gnawing on the strap of my man-purse I carry to work every day.

He’s never done that before!

Ahhh the holidays. When people pepper-spray you for buying video games at half-price at a Wal-Mart instead of doing what you should normally do at Wal-Mart….bring your best camera and search for great pictures to upload to www.peopleofwalmart.com.

I found a catalogue over Thanksgiving weekend the daughter had taken a liking to. Upon opening it I thought, “oh cool, she’s circled a few things in……oh…oh she’s circled everything in here.”

The son is still an incredibly devoted believer in Santa. Which sucks for two reasons…

1) It’s gonna break his heart and be rough as hell on him the day he finds out that fat bastard is really his MILF mom tossing extra un-wrapped gifts under the tree late at night while his drunk dad stands naked next to her whispering loudly, “just look at it…I’m making it look like helicopter blades!!”

I can’t help but see an episode of Intervention 20 years from now when my son’s all cracked-out, crying on national TV saying his addiction started when he learned Santa wasn’t real.

2) He thinks he can get whatever in the hell he wants. All “I gotta do is ask Santa!”

It’s like a huge middle finger being jammed in our faces when the boy asks for an iPhone, we rightfully say no, and he responds with that. It makes me want to out Santa right then and there.

But then we wouldn’t get away with my favorite phrase which keeps him in line, “really? You’re gonna give your sister a swirly in that toilet while Santa’s watching? Wow man…you’ve got balls of steel.”

Then there comes the wife. I procrastinate. I’ll occasionally look at commercials showing other rock-star husbands blowing the socks off their wife with cars, jewelry, vacuum cleaners and more. I can’t afford a new car, the wife sells all the jewelry I buy her and I might as well cut my own throat before buying her a vacuum cleaner.

So I wait. And wait.

And wait.

Until a couple days before Christmas and decide to fight the crowds. Bitching the whole time about finding no place to park, the long lines waiting to check out and the check-out ladies being rude because I had the gall to actually purchase something from them today.

I bitch about not being thanked as I hold the door for some jack-wad whose arms were full and mumble angrily to myself as I get stuck in endless shopping traffic.

And it’s at that last stoplight that I realize….the holidays and I need each other. Like my future cracked-out son needs his drugs, I need the holidays to be angry about something. I thrive off the rush of anger that I got on December 22 and 23 when I’m last-second-shopping for my wife. It makes me feel alive. It makes me…

LOVE THE HOLIDAYS!!!

What Pisses Me Off?!

Now that Thanksgiving is over, we can stop all this happy-dappy crap and get back down to brass tax—the things that piss me off. I did spend yesterday thinking about the so many many things I’m fortunate to have going right in my life. I know life could be significantly worse than it is now, and that for many out there, it is. But this is my life, and right now – I’m gonna get negative, cause I can.

There’s quite a few things that piss me off – some are long-term issues I have buried deep in my psychotic mind. Others are new and deserve just as much attention. So let’s get this thing started:

1) Screw you The Swine!! In my mind there’s three different types of flu. There’s the garden variety “flu” which everyone freaked out about back in the day (1 year ago), but now it’s seen as, “oh, you’ve only got the flu? Pshaw….dude, grow some balls, that’s nothing. Get back to work.” Then there’s “swine flu,” which will knock you out and is what my son is currently battling. It’s rough, but you can beat it. Then there’s “The Swine.” This bastard will take you to your knees, make you its bitch, tell you it loves you, then go bang your wife. My daughter had this last weekend and was hospitalized.

2) Kiss my ass Death! Yeah, I said it. Take your stupid black cape and go jump off a cliff. Seriously – you take one more of our family members and I’ll kill you while I…..oh wait….that doesn’t really make sense….

3) Last chance cat!! Jasper, our black cat pisses me the hell off. Why? Because he’s obsessed with knocking over cups and glasses. We cannot leave a cup or glass sitting alone or he will come over and knock it the hell off the table. It’s become common place to walk into a room to find a massive puddle or glass everywhere. Next time – Jasper – and I shave you and take you to Pet Smart so all the other animals can laugh at you.

4) The career decision I’m forced to make. Enough said on that.

5) Christmas makes me nuts! The materialistic nightmare that is now Christmas makes me wanna go postal on Santa’s North Pole sweat-shop. Even in an economy where we’re all counting pennies, the pressure to get out there and spend way more than you have is disgusting. If it weren’t for my kids, I’d boycott it all together and never….wait, hold on. “What’s that honey? No…no I didn’t say… But you know how I feel and… OK…OK! Just please don’t threaten to throw away the nookie jar again!” Ummm…. I’m I apparently love Christmas and enjoy buying gifts for the wifey.

6) What is it with Quitters? No, not people who quit….but “Quitters.” You know, that one sock in the pair that’s magically lost its elasticity so it’s all big at the top and won’t stay up and forces you to have to throw away a damn good pair of socks with no holes in them. Yeah – I’ve lost two pairs of socks in a week and I don’t even have kankles.

7) Cancer can suck it! Seriously…why can’t you only attack mass murderers, idiotic politicians, or Balloon-Boy’s father….OK, I took it a bit too far there, but you get my drift. The wrong people seem to always be the target and for that my friend….I hope cancer gets cancer.

8) And last, but certainly not least….yeah, you guessed it – Snuggies. You Smurf colored, backwards robe looking, piece of shit. I mean, the fleece it’s made from is not even good quality fleece. You make it impossible to sexually attack my wifey. You make sexy women look like turd smugglers. Your commercials make me want to obsessively stalk kids’ football games to find that couple in the stands wearing you so I can kick the ever-loving shit out of them in a parking lot. You’re stupid. You’re a washed up, worn out, piece of cloth that couldn’t  hack it in the bathrobe world, so you went rogue, got popular for a short period of time, and will end up a phenomenon that everyone laughs at three years from now. Oh wait…am I still talking about the Snuggie or Palin?