It’s Christmas, Bitches.

5 Dec

I’m decking the shit out of these halls. I’m talking pine cones flying everywhere. Like Edward Scissorhand style up in this piece. Not sure how pine cones are representative of Christmas, but I found a bag the size of my head full of them at Michael’s so I bought them. Obvi.

Dear Emmet Otter, your angry beaver of a mother didn't hock your tool chest. But she did stuff it with like eleven-hundred pine cones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ornaments? Fuck yeah. I have filled every vase I own with ornaments, coffee beans and starlight candies. Why? Because Christmas is a time to put a bunch of random shit in a bunch of empty orifices. That’s what she said. Gross. I’m a fan of this centerpiece in particular. Not only is it a total fire hazard, but my toddler can eat the most likely toxic, fake snow. A win win, really.

Why not just put your kid to bed with a lighter?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My mantle you ask? Not one square inch of empty space. My nemesis, Pinterest, told me to use multiple textures. So I did. There’s disco balls hanging from holly, hanging from lights, hanging from removable hooks, hanging from a Nutcracker’s balls. How’s that for Christmassy sparkleness?

I don't know...I just really feel like it's missing something...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m making my own wrapping paper out of old music sheets and ribbon candy. Raise your hand if you give a shit.

Another bonus about Christmas time? It’s totally acceptable to dress like a hooker. I’m talking slutty sequined bandeau tops. I’m thinking of this little number for the work holiday party. It’ll be conducive to busting out those holiday splits on the dance floor. Cuz for some reason it’s really okay to get wasted at work holiday events. That’s another thing. Just put the word ‘holiday’ in front of anything. It makes it all okay. ‘Holiday’ layoffs, “holiday’ house fire. Go ahead, you try.

No, I am not a hooker. It's just Christmas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also all think we’re rich at Christmastime. Sure, I have bills coming out of my arse, but it’s Christmas? I’m rich? I’m like a schizophrenic who thinks that I’m all better, so I stop taking my medicine. And then I end up wandering aimlessly downtown wearing a hat made of tinfoil.

I feel much better now, doctor. I don't need my meds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christ’s birth is also a time for marriage destroying arguments. I almost strangled my husband to death in Lowe’s because his wreath choosing abilities is tantamount to his garage cleaning abilities. Meaning they both suck. Both of them. And lights? Don’t even get me started. WHY WOULD YOU GET BLINKING LIGHTS?! Go back to Wal-Mart and get the non-blinking white lights. It’s almost impossible to fuck up that assignment.

And last but not least, the holiday family photo. How to get two children…I know, I know, try three, four, etc…to look at the camera is beyond me. I attempted everything. Bribery…empty promises. “Please look at me and smile and then you can go back to playing Wii and licking the refrigerator…”

We tried all weekend and it ended in tears, screaming and idle threats. And that was me, not my children. “LOOK AT THE CAMERA, GODDAMN IT! I WANT EVERYONE TO THINK WE ARE A HAPPY, WELL-ADJUSTED, PERFECT FAMILY!”

Pig pile on daddy!

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Merry Christmas, merry christmas, but I think I’ll skip this one this year.
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4 Responses to “It’s Christmas, Bitches.”

  1. Monica January 14, 2012 at 4:54 am #

    LMAO. Esp. the end about Wii and kids licking the fridge. Keepin’ it real thanks!

  2. gettejumpsoffabridge January 18, 2012 at 2:57 am #

    YES! I really thought I was the only one. Also, why do husbands always go to the blinking lights? Mine too. I gave up on the “perfect family photo” when the youngest was 8. Love this!

  3. Natasha January 19, 2012 at 5:24 am #

    You are absolutely hilarious!!

  4. Kate Dahmen January 19, 2012 at 1:09 pm #

    I cried. Haven’t laughed that hard in a very very very long time.

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