Quote of the Season

Even Santa knows this!

So, The Hairpin cross-posted a Dear Prudence column in which a really lovely-sounding person complained about her brother’s in-laws ruining (RUINING!) her family’s Christmas Eve tradition. How did they do this, you ask? Simply by their presence. Last year, they showed up and stayed the whole evening. And this year they are hosting Christmas Eve. They are strangers to her! THE NERVE! How dare her brother include his wife’s family in their holiday festivities? HOW VERY DARE HE?!

Anyway, there was not a lot of sympathy on anyone’s part for this “predicament.” But JessicaLovejoy hit the nail on the head with her comment re. this terrible, terrible problem:

“Ugh, sometimes it’s like people don’t even know what I’m for.” – Booze

As Homer Simpson once toasted, “To alcohol! The cause of – and solution to – all of life’s problems.”

And emilylouise offered this sage advice:

“should I stop celebrating Christmas Eve?”
…yes. Probably that. It’s the only logical solution.

It’s the Most Gun-derful Time of the Year!

As with everyone, my email box has been filling up with sales, discounts, free shipping and various other come-ons to induce to buy things online during this, the greediest of seasons. But for some reason this subject line really stood out:

Take 8% on Select Rifle Scopes During Our 12 Days of Christmas Celebration!

Because really, what better way to celebrate the birth of Our Lord than with accessories for high-powered firearms? Though I have to confess, my first response had nothing to do with whether or not rifle scopes are an ideal Christmas gift (à chacun son goût, as I like to say). My immediate reaction was “8%? That’s it? You think 8% is enough of a discount to get me to buy whatever it is you’re selling? Unless it’s an additional 8% off of a deep markdown, no – just no. Absolutely not.”

8%. For shame.

How I Ruined Christmas

Spent Christmas Eve with my father and stepmother, sister and brother-in-law and my two nephews, one of whom brought his girlfriend to the celebration (she’s clearly a brave soul, agreeing to attend an event Chez Cohen-Glick). And it was a wonderful evening. Dinner was fantastic as always – a giant rib roast was devoured (and my prize for helping my stepmother serve is that I got the first slice, all crusty and fatty and extra-delicious). Plus, she’d whipped up some homemade French macarons (I know!) to go along with the other desserts of profiteroles and coconut cranberry cake. Which came after the cheese course (duh).

There was also the traditional opening of Christmas crackers, so we could all don our paper crowns. This year’s crackers were music themed – we each got a whistle with a different number. The conductor (originally assigned to me but I couldn’t understand the instructions, so my sister was put in charge) uses the supplied baton and sheet of music to point at each numbered reveler, who then blows their whistle. The idea is that a lovely Christmas tune will be performed; in actuality, we spent our time whistling loudly and randomly while shrieking at my sister that she was ruining everything. Needless to say, this was a highlight of the evening.

Then we gathered ’round the tree for the festival of disappointment exchange of Christmas gifts. And actually, all went well. Everybody seemed pleased with their loot. Champagne continued to flow. Dad took his traditional stance, seated with a Hefty bag at his knees to fill with discarded wrapping paper, in an effort to eliminate all traces of Christmas the moment each gift was opened. I got a truly excellent portable speaker for my laptop and a handsome watch I’d been eying for months – very cool.

But then there were the electronic robot bugs. My step-mom got them as just a little impulse buy for the cats. And I made the mistake of opening one and turning it on – and it was horrifying. They are like over-sized, brightly colored cockroaches that go skittering around in a frighteningly realistic manner. They were seriously freaking me out. I think at one point I jumped up on chair squealing in terror like a cartoon housewife who sees a mouse.

So, at some point the bugs were reactivated and one of them came right at me like it was going to run up my pant leg, so I yelled, grabbed it and tossed it across the room – where it promptly managed to find the one tiny crevice in the fireplace hearth and  burrow its way in, until it was lodged deep inside.

All manner of picks, tweezers, magnets, duct tape, goose-neck pincers and various combinations of said tools were put to use in an effort to extract the still-buzzing toy. All succeeded only in lodging the beast further into place.  And the worst? We could all still hear the faint buzzing emanating from the hearth. I likened it to a live re-enactment of The Tell-Tale Heart.

My one prayer is that the battery wears out soon. Otherwise, my father will never sleep again.

Oh, and it was also during the failed robot-bug-extraction efforts that I realized my favorite new boots that I was wearing had left black scuff marks all over the floor from the kitchen to the dining room to the living room. I guess it’s a good thing I enjoyed myself so much this year, since I’ve likely been banned from all future celebrations.  Merry Christmas!

And here, by the way, are the terrible and freakish robot insects. Seriously, they are the stuff of nightmares…

Merry Christmas – Hope You Don’t Kill Yourself!

Presumably this card should always be accompanied by this. And please, dear baby Jesus, let me never receive such a card…

from Buzzfeed via The Awl

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Richard Lawson is my favorite writer at Gawker. And his tips on last minute Christmas gifts are excellent. I especially liked his suggestions for “The Girl Who’s About Your Age That Your Dad Just Married”:

You don’t want to rock the boat at Christmas, so while it would be kind of fun to get her something passive aggressive like a spray tan gift certificate or something from Forever 21, you’re not gonna do that.

Anyway, read the whole thing. And Merry Fucking Christmas!

Putting the Christ back in “Oh for Christ’s Sake”

What a relief that this pressing and not-at-all made-up issue is finally being addressed in a straight-to-DVD movie!

Oh, also this.

trailer from The Awl