I sit here now at my computer, cold, alone and without cheese and can’t help but think what a pathetic limp-dicked pantywaist Iron Chef Monkey Butt is. You see, I just finished reading his article and immediately said to myself, “What a sack of emotionally basted holiday gibber-crap!” But I guess people like him can’t be blamed for their misconstrued delusions of happiness, peace and joy that those pimply-assed fucks at Hallmark have so cunningly sown in their minds. No, you see, they are just products of Zales commercials, CompUSA advertisements and that damned Martha fuckin’ Stewart. Look you fat-assed marketing executives, no one I know gives Palm Pilots and laptop computers for Christmas! And Martha, if it’s not absolutely perfect, screw it! Those bastards you’re entertaining don’t give a shit (speaking of shit, check out www.ratemypoo.com) about your hand crocheted Christmas cocks!
And as for Hallmark, why don’t you make more realistic Christmas cards, say perhaps, one with a picture of a US soldier with the words, “I won’t be home for Christmas this year either” calligraphied underneath and not charge $5 for it? After all, IT’S ONLY A PIECE OF FOLDED PAPER!
Oh, and another thing. I am not going to help stimulate the economy mainly because I don’t have a fuckin’ job! Oh I feel so sorry to hear that retailers are having a bad year. Oh, boo hoo! Here’s some news for you idiots, so are the rest of us! But I guess that’s the American philosophy: think only of yourself and screw everyone else. Here’s an idea for you all this year: screw buying gifts for everyone you know and spending money that you don’t have. Why don’t you just simply spend that wasted mall time with your family instead or go to church and give thanks for the meager, unimportant crap you have? Trust me, those Game Cubes, sweaters and slew of other useless gizmos will be there next year, and they’ll probably be cheaper too.
Ah, but I digress. What’s really important here is the answer to that one question that drives me absolutely ape-shit every year: What do you want for Christmas? Okay, I’ll tell you once and for allâ€¦ you’ve been warned.
- To be left the fuck alone (Yeah, you read right; deal with it)
- For the lazy bastards who supposedly “write” for this site to actually “write” something for a change, anything!
- Will and Grace off the air (or should I say, Will and Gross)
- More Harvey Birdman Attorney at Law (that shit cracks me up)
- Weight limits on stretch pants (Seriously people, this has got to stop. Those things are going to bust one day and kill someone)
- More birth control in Alabama (It amazes me how we can build a bomb that kills hundreds of Afghans but can’t prevent some sweaty-pitted, three-toothed bitch in a trailer from having eight kids)
- 9 Ladies Dancing (Preferably on a stage with dollar bills stuffed in their g-strings)
- A job (but not with AT&T)
- For the black, coarse hair on my ass to stop growing longer every day and to just fall out already (If you only truly knew the discomfort and humiliation it causes me, not to mention the money spent on toilet paper and the sheer effort involved in maintaining a cling-on free posterior)
- For those non-English speaking bastards at Wendy’s to get my fucking order right just once (No mustard means, NO FUCKING MUSTARD, YOU RETARDS!)
- A nice table saw (But not too expensiveâ€¦ I got some projects that need completing)
- For AT&T to get their heads out of their collective asses (This, I’m afraid, is the same as asking for world peace. But one can only hope.)
Well, that’s it. I mean, is it too much to ask? Oh, one more thing: I really want a DVD copy of Blazing Saddles with all the extra scenes in it that I see all the time on TV but for some reason are not included on the current DVD. What’s the story there? Yeahâ€¦ okay, that’s itâ€¦ promise.