the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Friday, December 21, 2007

Scrooge you guys, I'm going home

If you've known me for any reasonable amount of time, you will know that I'm not the Christmas-cheeriest bitch on the block. Aside from the pretty pretty lights, which I dig in a big way, there isn't much about the season that sets me to tingling with joy. Let's face it: several years in retail didn't convince me that this is the most wonderful time of the year. The commercials are so bad and so insistent and so fucking repeated on a short loop that I'd be tempted to smash the TV if not for the fact that I am addicted to far too many shows. Plus, donkey porn just doesn't look as stunning on my computer. So the TV stays intact. This time of year holds no religious significance for me, godless agnostic that I am, and I'm too old to give a shit about Santa, unless he wants to bring me a big wad of cash; then I could certainly give a shit about Santa, and possibly even a polar blow job if there are enough big bills in the card. I am also quite sickened by people I see who are totally focused on buying overpriced status gifts for everyone they know, people who bitch about how much money they're spending, but act like it's required for them to go overboard with generosity so as to impress people they probably don't even like that much.

And don't even get me going on the mongoloids who pitch a hissy fit every year because some people choose to utter the words "Happy holidays." When the police come by and order you to take down your tree and ornaments on December 24, then you may consider it a War on Christmas. Go on, say "Merry Christmas" to me all you want, free of charge. I don't mind. But if I feel like including all the celebrated days in one phrase, I'm damned well going to do so. At least I'm not saying "Hope you break some bones this holiday season!" or "Yuletide greetings, you douchebag!"

I could probably get by all that, if it weren't for the music. Christmas music, for the most part, makes me want to pour cement in my ears until my head crashes to the ground and there is, once again, sweet silence. Don't get me wrong; I think a lot of the music is very interesting, and there are even some singers who do a bang-up job with the material (I'm thinking the Roches). But that's never what they play in the stores. Here I am, going into Walmart at midnight, just minding my own business and buying my beer and vaseline, and my ears are assaulted by a steady stream of singers whose voices are somewhere in the range between fingernails on chalkboard and so high only dogs can hear, singing Christmas songs that would have been so much better left as instrumentals. The only saving grace is that, if I can hoof it over to the beer aisle quickly enough, the sonic outrage from the store loudspeakers is drowned out by the sound of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, which the store is nice enough to play at a decent volume from speakers mounted on a wine display. So I stand there and soak in the classical music, then make my dash to the checkout lanes, humming Spring to myself so as to drown out some warthog in heat singing about harking for the angels to sing (so why doesn't the bitch shut the fuck up and hark already?).

Yeah, the holidays make me even grumpier than I am the rest of the year, which is quite a feat when you stop and think about it. But then someone goes and does something nice for me and suddenly, I feel like a true assbag for wanting to punch a snowman right in the carrot.

My sister, for instance, came over last night for our traditional Thursday-night brain rot of General Hospital, and she brought early Christmas presents for my babies. And then my heart grew three sizes.

Christmas present

Auntie Squirl brought the boys a jester wand with most tempting feathers (pictured above with the conquering hero Friday), three fuzzy mice (as opposed to fuzzy dice, which seem to confuse the cats to no end), and two large tubs of catnip. Oh, yeah...we're gonna be fucked up this Christmas!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make my employees work overtime on Monday and then perhaps knock a small child off his crutches.

My not-so-secret identity

25 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Blogger Flying Mermaid said...

Damn you, bitch! I may be slight in stature but I am NOT a small child, and you really didn't have to fuck with my crutches like that!

As for that gash on your cheek? You'd obviously forgotten my post about having sharpened the bottoms to dangerous points when I infiltrated the prison to have my Samurai way with Paris Hilton. Sorry. You own damn fault, though.

Merry Shit Song to you, too. Hey, on the real, though. Hmm, I'd have to think a minute, but last week I found this weird cat online whose been making these absolutely obscure Xmas mix tapes for 16 years -- he's got a whole website. Candye doing "Let's Put the X Back in Xmas" was in the mix one year....

5:08 PM, December 21, 2007  
Blogger Katy Barzedor said...

Mermaid - I would be too afraid to fuck with your crutches. You may be small, but you'd probably pee on something in my house, and that's kind of worse than an ass kicking.

Hope you didn't get any Samurai STDs from Ms. Hilton.

Oh, and I'd forgotten about Candye's Xmas music. Maybe I only like Christmas songs by Jews. There's something to ponder.

5:20 PM, December 21, 2007  
Blogger eclectic said...

Bah. Humbug.

Although, with enough rum (or wine, or tequila, or scotch...), I do feel all warm inside.

5:25 PM, December 21, 2007  
Blogger Unknown said...

Merry Christmas, Friday.

Merry Christmas, Thirteen.

Bah Humbug, Bucky.

7:29 PM, December 21, 2007  
Blogger Jonn Wood said...

Speaking as a Christian, I wish so much of us would quit whining about Happy Holidays, because they're missing the point. It's not meant to exclude us, it's meant to include people of other faiths who celebrate other holidays besides/including Christmas. Like Hannukah, which is a Jewish festival. Hey, you know who else was Jewish, you whiners? Jesus of Nazareth.

11:37 PM, December 21, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I love you.

That is all.

BTW... I survived an entire holiday season at the workplace with nothing but the moosak versions of random harking of angels to sing, silencing the night, and coming on the faithful (not necessarily in that order). The sheer overflow of corporate lobby holiday cheer... wow.

Ask Squirl. It wasn't pretty.

12:06 AM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger Flying Mermaid said...

After all that, I see my refusal to go to bed in 3 days (nyah nyah I win!) brought on a number of horrors in typos and spelling bloopers.

My apologies.

Beats a Christian Rock band trying to play Klezmer.

4:11 AM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger Squirl said...

I love that picture of Friday. He was posing so nicely that night. Must be he enjoyed the gifts. Well, a catnip-encrusted jester wand would make any kitty happy.

Instrumental, not musak, versions of Christmas songs are usually the least offense. Of course, you know how I love to sing them so I don't mind hearing the words. Chia-kittn is right about the music at work. She just sat right next to where it was playing. I had to take her away for regular walks to keep her sanity. :-)

But you don't have much time left to have to hear them now. It will be over soon. And you can have kitties on a catnip high for amusement.

6:38 AM, December 22, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have been playing classical holiday music all week on the Internet station, interspersed with some other good stuff, and it is much easier on the ears than pop-schlock.

and I am about to go into hermit mode on Christmas as well - eggnog, rum, and a bunch of opera DVDs.

7:07 AM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger Unknown said...

Now now now, Bucky. There are some wonderful things about Christmas:

1. Eggnog with Tuaca
2. Pumpkin cheesecake
3. Days off work with pay
4. Um...
5. Er...
6. Did I mention eggnog?

See? LOTS of stuff.

9:58 AM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger I'm not here. said...

Oh, Honey! Play the 12 drunken days of Christmas:
You get one drink with each little theme, such as a partridge (grey goose) in a pear tree (use a pear slice as garnish)...
I'm going to have to think this up and post it on my website. Yeah. I'll let you know when it's done.

9:06 PM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger thatfarmgirl said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. That is the funniest damned Photoshopped pic I have ever seen. Merry Merry, Bucky. Can't wait to see what you have in store for 2008! Heaven help us all...

9:27 PM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger I'm not here. said...


9:46 PM, December 22, 2007  
Blogger Unknown said...

Hey Bucky! Feliz Naviblah! I hope you have a swellegant day!

11:20 PM, December 23, 2007  
Blogger Nilbo said...

Whether you like Christmas or not, whether you care or not ... Merry Christmas, Bucky. You're one of the people who makes this world a better place to be.

3:12 PM, December 24, 2007  
Blogger Unknown said...

Have a Merry Christmas, Katy, Friday & Thirteen!

May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Christmas. (A Celtic toast)

9:29 PM, December 24, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Happy Catmas, Thirteen and Friday.

Alex the Cat (owner of Sometimes Saintly Nick)

9:35 PM, December 24, 2007  
Blogger SierraBella said...

Don't worry, it's almost over!

1:16 AM, December 25, 2007  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Happy Ho Ho!

7:14 AM, December 25, 2007  
Blogger Squirl said...

Merry Christmas! Please kiss the kittehs for me. ;-)

8:39 AM, December 25, 2007  
Blogger eclectic said...

HO, Merry Christmas! ;)

3:05 PM, December 25, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Happy Alldemdays!

8:52 PM, December 25, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Merry Christmas Bucky! I hope it wasn't too painful for you. :)

4:26 PM, December 26, 2007  
Blogger Unknown said...

Rum... pass the rum... more family is on the way to the big top...

10:29 AM, December 28, 2007  
Blogger Kathryn said...

Happy Holidays to my favorite cranky bitch.

1:32 PM, December 28, 2007  

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