They are. And they do.

Monday, December 24, 2012

The Annual Holiday Issue

is “OMFG. My family is the worst.”

Just kidding. They’re like 50% of my readership.

And 80% of my eventual need for therapy.

When I grow up, I want to be well-adjusted. Maybe even some sort of a spiritual guide. That would be aces.

Like, if you buy a pack of bagels and they’re undercooked, you should not get mad.

This shit is easy. When do I get a book deal?


I hope my spirit animal is a human. That shit seems important, and I don’t want to lose anything in translation. 


So, this is the issue in which we discuss the holidays. And make dick jokes.


Here’s a new Halloween drinking game.

Shut up. Act like it’s still Halloween.

The goal is to determine whether or not the parents are in costume or if they just normally dress like that. What you do is, the one with the biggest juevos goes up to the parent and asks what they’re dressed as. And if they don’t get punched in the mouth, they can still drink.




This is the first year in which I walked into Rite Aid and heard autotuned Christmas music. So I ran it through autocorrect, and it spit out Billy Joel. Like, actual Billy Joel. What do I even feed it? Elton John’s table scraps? And how do I get out of taking it clubbing?

Oh, wow. I, um. Hmm. I just, uh, well, I don’t know if, maybe, that, tonight is all that great for me. I mean, I really, really want to and we should do this sometime. But, you know, obligations, and, I have this thing later, and I should really be, you know, these shoes, but, definitely some other time. I, I just don’t think I should Wang Chung tonight.

Don’t you hate people who say “like” too much?

I hate people who write letters to things that can’t read.

Deer Kittehs,
Enuff wit da LOLZ alreddy. STFU n plz GDIAF.

It’s futile and a little sad.

Deer Santa,
All I want for Xmas is my parents.
Some Dumb Kid

It’s not like that’s going to change anything.

Dear Kid,
Nope. Sorry. I know I’m magical, but you wrote “Xmas,” and that’s hella lame.

But I can’t promise I won’t do it in the future.

Dear Coffee,
I think you’re yummy. Let’s make brown babies.

Let’s hear it for self-fulfilling prophecy.

Our better-known holidays seem to benefit from drawing on other traditions. That explains why Columbus Day has yet to break out into one that people actually give a shit about.


Let’s be honest. The little dance of “Aww…you shouldn’t have” should be removed from all gift-receiving situations. It’s fucking lame, and I want to know if you actually appreciate the effort I put into it. We should replace it with something more honest.

People say “sad-sack” all the time, but no one ever says “happy-sack.”

Look at Grant. That happy-sack. Just getting back from his honeymoon. Let’s give him a wedgie.

Do people give wedgies anymore?

I like to make my own gift cards, because it’s more personal, and I’m poor.

Merry Christmas!
You get 1 free back rub upon receiving 6 free wedgies.

You have to earn it.


I don’t have a chimney. Santa can’t come, because then he’d roll over and fall asleep.

Still, I’m optimistic about my gift chances.


Overall, Google has been a disappointment. They’ve mastered email, but they have yet to attempt E Honda.

(v): Poop fish

You get what you pay for.

“Cache rules everything around me.” – The Ol’ Dirty Bastard (AKA Internet Explorer)

That was at least +3 nerd points.

Around this time of year, we can always gauge how well our economy is doing by counting new purchases of vasectomies.

Seriously, is there anything worse than a kid in the middle of December? No. Santa isn’t real. Jesus is dead. And you’ll never get that Super Nintendo you’ve always wanted.

I just got back into playing Sim City 2000. That game was the butt sex.

I must. I must. I must increase my busses. #traffic

I hear this tends to happen, but classes seem much more appealing now that I’ve been out of school for a while.


Yes, ladies, I studied the sciences. And whenever the professor would talk about conducting heat, I’d get really excited for a moment and then realize that Val Kilmer was in fact not going to be making his Broadway debut.

Seriously, how many other straight white guys would pay to see that?

Since I’ve achieved grownassness, I’ve become increasingly alarmed at the amount of people who try to sell me things using puppets and nursery rhymes. It’s not like when I was a teenager and they used boobs to sell me beer.

I’ve successfully reintegrated “nards” into my vocabulary, and I feel like one of those skinny guys on TV holding up a giant pair of pants.

All pants are tear-away if you do it right.

I still want to be Hulk Hogan.

Old fuck moment: Rap was way better in the 90s.

Wu-Tang for a little while; let’s see how it goes.

I’m still waiting for Dick Van Dyke’s musical comeback: Dubstep in Time.

It’s essentially Julie Andrews on R2D2 fanfiction.

Rewatch those movies. That droid was the galaxy’s biggest vibrator.

If I ever go nuts and start taking hostages, you only need to play John Denver’s Earth Songs on repeat.

Even God was like, “Dude, no more.”

Calm down. It’s not true.

Socks are fucking warm. Now that it’s legit winter, I’d like to wear socks all over my body.

I’ll take “Things kids on E say for 500.”

If you go to any mall in America, you’ll find a fat guy with a fake beard, and I’m still waiting for Animal Planet to accept my proposal for Merkin Manor.

But it probably won’t happen. I blame The Apprentice.

I’m all for equality, but the Jewish Nation must have been really fucked up to have elected a baby.

I wish I was alive back then. I give him all sorts of shit, but I think we’d have gotten along.

“King of the Jews, meet Duke of the Nukem.”

You’re welcome, Hollywood. I know you’re working with limited material.

It would be like Stepbrothers 2, only it would be a prequel.


Mythology is weird.


How to Tebow:
  • Step 1: Put your hands on your head
  • Step 2: Be a massive disappointment
My friend: Just watched the Giants 2012 DVD. Wow....... I am literally in tears. All we need is the movie, with Daniel Day Lewis playing Barry Zito.

Maybe I should start deleting people.

This is the time of year when we ponder our existence.


Hey, I can do that, too.

Dee-pak (v): 
It’s unnecessary, btw. They have bras that will do that for you. I dated someone who would’ve been a very hot B cup, but instead she was a magician.


But people don’t flock to me like they do with Deepak. It must be the cat whiskers.

Or is that his way of pouring one out for Nelly?

Fashion tip: Scarves camouflage neckbeard.

Wait. We still have Nelly?


Brunette is not the manliest term for my kind. I prefer bruno.

I’d go straight for women.

I’ve been getting in the spirit. The other day I held an automatic door for an old lady.

What will we call Lil Bow Wow’s kid?


Either that or Nano Bow Wow.

It’s your fault for reading this crap.

Honestly, the holidays are pretty boring, except maybe for


Presidents’ Day.

Hoping to give humans immortality, Maui disguised himself as a worm and crawled into her vagina. Piwakawaka’s laughter at the sight roused the sleeping goddess. Closing her thighs, she crushed the worm to death.

Mythology is pretty fucked up.


Illusions, Michael.

Though we may constantly argue about our differences, this time of year we should all set them aside in the spirit of Christmas songs being lame. It doesn’t matter how you dress them up, they aren’t cool. Sure, I grew up on The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album, but kids do a lot of stupid shit.

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell revenue stream.

I think in the spirit of inclusion, Christmas should give the melodic reacharound to our dyslexic brothers and sisters. 

I’m a big nerd, and I like nerdy women. If you were to show up wearing the Princess Leia gold bikini, I’d ask if you wanted to slip into something a little more comfortable. Because that shit is metal.

The holidays can be a lonely time for some.


But remember. When life gives you melons, habbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbhhhh.

Aram and I join the rest of western civilization in wishing you a Mandatory Christmas.

Come jiggle with me.