Happy fucking holidays

Now were' s my presents. That's right I don't want baby jeezus (especially if he's made of plastic), family dinners or snow on the ground. I just want presents. Alcohol is a fine substitute, but I'll probably have to supply that myself. Face it, that's the only reason I've ever come to family x-mas time. And the family part of it is always what sucked. In the 27 times I've been to jingle balls day I don't remember a single stress free one. Granted I don't remember them all perfectly or unhazily, but the general idea of this whole holiday fiasco makes my ulcers spit acid and my palms sweat. I've been (more) irritable and pissy(than usual) for at least two weeks now and over the next three days my cup will surely runeth over. The humming in my noggin is reaching for it's high pitched crescedno and I honestly hope I can break the string this year.

Actually the best present I could get would be total family blowout at the family dinner. Something to take pictures of. Someone to throw food at. Forehead veins bulging, red faces matching spilled red wine, dogs barking cuz they have feelings too.

This is the one thing I ask. If your gonna get married and have a family, do it the hard way, make sure it's done right with every resource and thought at your disposal. If you're gonna commit to a relationship do it completely and make it work. Don't make your kids run from one side of the family to the other on crismas, because even though they get more presents it's just not worth it.

Sorry mama.