I hate Christmas and the whole damn holiday season. Here’s why:

They start stocking the store shelves with all the Christmas froufrou at the beginning of September. By the end of November, I am so tired of looking at all the shit that I want to stick toothpicks in my eyeballs and serve them as cocktail onions just to keep from having to look at the crap a minute longer.

I used to wonder how people justify spending so much money to decorate their homes for one stinking holiday, but now I know. They start putting the shit up after Halloween and don’t take it down till the end of January.

They spend a quarter of the damn year celebrating a holiday that is only one day long. Then, of course, there are the real lazy asses who never take their damn lights down. Someone needs to yank those lights down and choke the shit out of them.

Christmas means shopping. I hate shopping. It’s hard enough to drag my agoraphobic ass to the store the rest of the year. Dealing with all the assholes packed into cramped aisles is torture for me. Every year I vow to get all my shopping done before Thanksgiving to avoid the holiday crowds, and every year there is some sort of emergency or situation that makes it impossible. I know, you are probably thinking, “just shop online, you dumb bitch”. Well, I don’t do credit cards (thanks to the two bastards I was married to) and my computer doesn’t have a dollar bill validator like a vending machine, so I am assed out. I have to go the store and deal with rude people pushing and shoving and smarting off and risking getting bitch-slapped by me.

I can certainly do without all the sappy Christmas shows and songs. I don’t want to turn on the radio and hear some song intended to pull on my heartstrings and make me count my blessings. All they do is trigger my gag reflex. Am I the only person in the world who hates “It’s A Wonderful Life”? What the hell do I care if an angel gets its wings?

Thankfully, I’m not working in an office setting right now because office Christmas parties should be outlawed. They simply mean that on top of having to interact with a bunch of people I don’t really like, I have to buy a gift for at least one of the fuckers who will probably give me some crap dug out of the bargain bin or the back of their closet.

The potluck Christmas parties are the worst though. I end up spending half the night before cooking up some wonderful dish and then spend the meal pretending to eat some shit that the office skank brought in. Seriously, if I think you might have an STD or that you don’t wash after you wipe, I’m not eating that homemade dressing you brought.

Now, before you think that I am totally evil and should burn in hell, I will say that there are a few things I like about Christmas. Even though my son is way past the age of believing in Santa, he still has all the childlike joy of Christmas. So for him, I put up a tree and a few decorations. For him, I go into the stores in search of the perfect presents to put a smile on his face. Spending time with my family on Christmas is always lots of fun and of course, all the rich food is good too. And lest you think I am going soft, I will say it again. I hate Christmas!