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December 21, 2012

Every Christmastime, which is generally from about Halloween onward, I begin my running bet with myself that I will not hear a certain especially damnable song for as long as possible for both gods and humans. If I win, which, item: has never happened, I get to enjoy a season unpunctuated by dashes of utter crap, and throw back my head and howl with victory. I imagine there would also be a little dance. If I lose I have to hear the world’s worst Christmas song and pitch an immediate mini fit wherever I am, which ranges from the airport on holiday eve where everyone else was also miserable and it was acceptable, to the fancy Christmas ornament store my mom took me to a couple of weeks ago where people were frankly shocked at my lack of yuletide spirit. Maybe you have guessed, all smart over there with good hair, that this year like every year I am losing again. Rather than pout about this however I am going to share the true spirit of Christmas with you; wicked glee at the fact that one is not alone in one’s desire for some perfection of form and/or function, a ball or two, or at least a good damn laugh.

The internet: bringing justice and holiday cheer to make glad the heart and retract the claws.

UtMAU

I am

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