Christmas wish-lists are everywhere these days. No longer just the realm of a child or significant other writing a cute little note to parents or lover, these things have been usurped by the likes of Amazon.com and its ilk. Not only that, Christmas wish-lists (at least in my experience) prove to be largely unsuccessful.
I mean, how many of us are still waiting for that fucking pony? Or super-deluxe limited edition Optimus Prime? Yeah, I thought so. I guess this also subtly means that Christmas wish-list recipients are disingenuous bastards.
So, here's a Christmas un-wish-list of things I absolutely do not want for the upcoming holidays:
1. Socks or underwear - hey, asshole, I'm perfectly capable of getting these myself. Not to mention they're cheap, which means you're cheap, and I hate cheap... particularly when it comes to presents. "It's the thought that counts" is utter bullshit. And what does that mean, anyway? You were thinking of smelly feet and sweaty crotch? Yuck. Get away from me.
2. A self-help book, or any religious or spiritually-themed book. Sorry, dude (or dudette... yes, I just used "dude" and "dudette"), but your annoying attempt at believing that your beliefs can solve all of the problems that you perceive I have just annoyed me that much more. Again, get away from me.
3. A Celine Dion CD - yes, even I'll admit that she puts out the occasional brilliance, but she's so naively stupid, the mere thought of her can make me sick. And it's likely to be a $5 Celine Christmas album, which brings up the cheap thing again. Dick.
4. Random gift cards - the press is right, gift cards can be superbly ridiculous gifts, particularly if you give me one for Bed, Bath, & Beyond, or give a girl one for Best Buy. Gift cards already suggest you started shopping for us a bit too late, so at least get us something that we'll want to use. And, oh by the way, cash is great, too. Snarky editorials are wrong about that one. I'll definitely accept cash with a smile. Which brings me to...
5. Christmas cards. This is the 21st century, not the Renaissance. Christmas cards are no longer a valid excuse for your painstaking acknowledgement that you remember I exist. That's what mass e-mails are for. Don't send me a Christmas card unless it constitutes a visit to the bank on Boxing Day.
6. A pony - that's right, a pony. Back when mom and dad paid for everything, this would've been cool, but since I'm now responsible for my expenses, buying me something so expensive to maintain is likely to warrant you receiving a special delivery of horse shit in the near future. And this goes for any animal that I haven't expressely suggested that I want.
7. Small kitchen appliances - um, if I needed a toaster, or a microwave, or a George Foreman, I'd go get one myself. Unless I'm a college kid moving away for the first time, stay out of my kitchen.
8. DVDs from the cheap bin. Chances are, if the movie is any good, I already have the damned thing. And let's not forget you're being cheap again.
9. Collectibles of things I collect. Yes, this one might seem a bit weird, but something that non-collectors apparently don't quite grasp is that most collectors are very, very picky of the things they hoard. Trust me, unless you acquired something during an overseas trip, we've already had an opportunity to acquire whatever it is you think you're being clever by buying for us. And there's a reason we didn't acquire it. So there's absolutely no reason you should... unless you really like seeing false smiles and experiencing false gratitude.
10. Combination birthday/Christmas gifts. Yes, I'm one of those unfortunate souls who was born on a date that falls rather close to Christmas. Please don't remind me of your cheapness and unwillingness to shop for me twice by getting me two cheap gifts, pretending they are one moderately expensive gift, and writing "Happy Birthday/Merry Christmas" on the wrapping. That just makes me want to light your hair on fire.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
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