Probably Safe to Take Your Christmas Decorations Down at this Point

I think we can be fairly certain, on January 25th, that Santa isn’t going to loop back around and make any sort of gift worthiness decisions based on the tackiness of your light display. The war is over for 2012 soldier, you won. As great as the perma-deflated giant blow up Santa with Reindeer looks lying in your lawn the last week of January, it is time to move on. No one would argue that your effort in watering that Christmas tree that died and started losing 279 needles per day, 16 days ago, is anything less than valiantly heroic. I’m sure the bards will be singing about it for another couple of centuries, minimum. But don’t you just want to walk from the kitchen to the living room once without getting stuck with a dried out, brown coniferous needle? It is time to make the trip down and back up the basement stairs with the dusty old ornaments box and the sawed off pvc pipe you wrap the lights back around to keep them from knotting. Sad? Only a heartless bastard would say no. But buck up little camper, Easter decorating is right around the corner. Everyone knew beyond a reasonable doubt by December 2nd that you had won Christmas. Now you are just rubbing it in. And no one likes that.

In your mind you might think you are still collecting residuals on your Christmas winning. But that is not the message you are sending about yourself and your family to the community at large. This is what you are actually telling the neighborhood:

-I don’t wash my sheets very often
-I likely have halitosis and try to cover it up with cheap breath mints
-Most days my kids eat microwave pot pies or fast food
-We drive a mini van
-Our laundry room is covered in clothes. On the floor, on tables, on the machines themselves. Some are dirty, some are clean, few are folded. Who knows what is what anymore, to be honest
-We watch each and every reality T.V. show known to man. We TiVo when they conflict with one another
-There are so many stains on the carpet it almost looks like it was meant to be patterned
-Our dog never gets groomed, there is dog hair fucking everywhere, and on occasion a pile of dog shit graces the tiled area next to the back door. Don’t worry, we’re gonna clean it up
-The garage has two holes that aren’t filled with hoarded shit. The cars just barely fit into them
-Got a kick-ass trip to Branson, Missouri, comin’ up in the spring!
-Our kids are either late, or don’t show up at all, to games they are supposed to play in. Doesn’t really matter, because they fucking suck anyway
-Solid deal on bucket of chicken at KFC today. Mashed comes with
-Got subscriptions to 17 different magazines
-The bluetooth ear piece synching perfectly with the cell phone on belt clip….so money!
-Just wear running shoes when golfing
-Backseat floor of car looks like empty fast food container graveyard
-Everyone in the family has titties

If this is not the way you want to represent your family to the town you live in, whether true or no, for the love of God, put away the fucking Christmas decorations already, would ya?

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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