It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmahanakwanza

It’s that time of year again, folks.
The Salvation Army has the elderly hanging around your favorite Wal*Mart with their little bells just a ring-a-ling-lingalin’ as they freeze their geriatric butts off in the name of your spare change. Cheapskate boyfriends are planning to breakup with their girlfriends to avoid buying a Christmas present or just to kick it with a no morals ho-ho-ho. All around the country, children are writing letters to Santa Claus and praying the “Please, please, pleeaaassseeee let there be a snow day” prayer before falling asleep nightly as their parents look for better hiding places for the presents they maxed out their credit cards buying.
Yerp. The holidays are about to anally rape us again. Where’s the peppermint stick lube? upon us again, so you know what that means.
Snow! The horrible annual Christmas play at church! Snow! Racist, homophobic, ratchet ass Rudolph the Niggafied Reideer! Snow! Christmas carols!
…Did I forget to mention the snow?
This morning when I woke up—which, thankfully wasn’t as traumatic or painful as yesterday—I was told that Boogie had a snow day and that I would have to get out of my warm, comfortable bed to shovel the accursed snow. Which, by the way, was a lie. Yes, it snowed, but only a little bit. However, we do have to remember that I live in Michigan—we’re shaped like a frickin’ mitten, for Santa’s sake—and our bipolar weather is apt to change in the blink of an eye. Eh…
At any rate, Caramel Macchiato will be ready for her yearly showdown with that jive turkey, The White Devil soon. Now to find a decent pair of gloves.
Shazaam.
♥