Note: I’m a columnist for the Reader Weekly, an alt-weekly newspaper in Duluth, MN. Every Tuesday I post a new column.
Hey jerks, guess what today is?* It’s November! Not December. Not “The holiday season”. Today is just plain old November, so put your Christmas tree back in the garage, take down your lights, remove your candy cane tie, and stop being merry. I forbid you to smile, laugh, or be full of cheer until December 1.
I don’t care if Thanksgiving is over. The Christmas season doesn’t begin until December. Have some self-control, you filthy animals! Stop trying to force it upon the rest of us a week early. It is November, and you will act accordingly, or I will take off my shoe and throw it at your face.
What happened to self-restraint? I know everybody wants everything right now, but “right now” gets earlier and earlier every year. Patience is a virtue, you twats! Can’t you monkeys keep out of the banana factory for one lousy week? Have some willpower and discipline. Pretend you have a personality inside you instead of just an endless stream of selfishness and indulgence.
If you’re not selfish and you just genuinely like holidays, then why don’t I ever see you trying to celebrate Columbus Day early? Why don’t I see you a month beforehand listening to Columbus Day music and baking Christopher Columbus shaped cookies? You don’t like celebrating holidays at all, do you? You just like getting presents. You’re a liar and a bastard.
I’m sorry this column took such a harsh turn, but the tough love is necessary. Have you ever seen people shopping on Black Friday? It’s like gangs of middle-class women having turf wars. If I were mayor, I’d have all the city’s police officers hide inside stores before Black Friday. Then when customers opened the doors in the morning, the police would beat them unmercifully.
However, since I’m a nice guy, I’ll make exceptions to my December rule. If you want to shop for Christmas presents in November, that’s fine. Just keep it to yourself. Tell no one, and act as though you’re shopping for necessities. If anyone asks, you must tell them you are buying food, toilet paper, or conservative underwear. Keep it secret, keep it safe. No flashy underwear. People might suspect.
I will also allow Jewish people to begin celebrating Hanukkah, since it starts earlier in the month. This annual celebration of your miracle container of olive oil can even begin the second week of November. You may not put up anything resembling Christmas lights, though. You’re limited to Menorah lights or displays that remind people of the horrors of the Holocaust.
This is the first year I’ve had to set rules like this. Normally I’m nice enough to accommodate the mentally unstable people who want to extend the stressful holiday season as long as possible, but this year I just snapped. My workplace has been playing Christmas music since the beginning of the month, and no matter how many times I throw up, I can’t void the Rudolph song that’s been melting my brain for the past three weeks. Like Rudolph, my nose will also be bright red this Christmas, but only from the brutal alcoholism my employer has driven me to.
When I die – which will probably be around December 23 when my liver gives out – I’d like to be remembered as a man with an enormous penis. But seeing how that’s not actually true, my second choice would be for everyone to remember me as the guy who wasn’t a total dickhole in November. Or rather, the guy who was only a dickhole in print.
*Today is also “End a sentence with a preposition day”.