Bookshelf Battle

Happy Holidays from Uncle Hardass

Ho Ho Ho Ya’ Lousy Degenerate 3.5 Readers.

Uncle Hardass here to put some much needed coal in your mental stockings.

Now, I know what you hippies are thinking. “Oh, Uncle Hardass! You’re not going to take a dump on the joyous holiday season are you?”

Yes!  Yes I am!

Where do I start?  I’m not sure what spoils my eggnog more. Maybe it’s…

• …the fact that Christmas gets celebrated earlier every year. Everyone takes off their damn Halloween monster masks and puts on a Santa hat. The last three months of the year are Hooray for Death in October, Hooray for Stuffing our Fat Pie Holes in November, and Hooray for Running Up Our Credit Card Bills on Shit We Don’t Need December. Before you know it, people are going to start celebrating the next year’s Christmas on Dec. 26.

• …that I have to say nonsense like “Happy Appointed Nondenominational Religiously Neutral and Atheism Inclusive Festivity Day” just to avoid offending an unwashed hippy who should toughen up and get a job at the Salt Mines.

• …people who post pictures of their Elf on the Shelf drinking a beer, puking in the toilet, smoking a cigarette next to a Barbie, or some other obnoxious pose. We get it. You’re very lonely and the likes you get on social media are your only means of contact with the outside world. Go on. Put the little guy in a pink Barbie car and have a police officer action figure pull it over, you scamp you.

• …that I can’t get candy canes all year round. I love candy that tastes good and makes my breath smell like an elf fart. I should be able to buy candy canes in August. Oh wait, I can because CHRISTMAS STARTS EARLIER AND EARLIER EVERY FREAKIN’ YEAR!

• …that people expect me to wrap presents. Why do you want me to wrap your damn present? Fancy paper does not bring any additional enjoyment to whatever useless piece of garbage I got you. If anything, it prevents you from getting to the useless piece of crap earlier. There is a delay in your ability to enjoy the crap equivalent ot the time it takes to unwrap the crap. The environmental hippies might be onto something here. One day when the Earth is doomed, the aliens who move in next will say, “It was because the humans had an entire season when they bought useless crap for each other AND chopped down entire forests just to cover the useless crap with paper that delayed their access to said crap.”

• …people who a) wear ugly sweaters b) put their hideous pets in ugly sweaters and c) color coordinate their outfits with their pets. One day your home will be foreclosed on and you will wish you had all the money you wasted on outfits your dog did not want to wear.

• …mistletoe. If you wanna kiss, then just pucker up. I’m a man, damn it and I don’t need a sprig of a plant that’s otherwise unseen the rest of year just to play tonsil hockey with some random bimbo at a party.  Sorry Gertie, but I’m dead now and I did say “Till death do us part.”

• …Santa tracker apps. Inevitably, some jackass at the party will whip out his Santa Tracker and gush like an idiot, “Whoa boy, Santa’s flying over X third world country!” No, no he’s not. Santa’s sleigh doesn’t have an anti surface to air flare system and that fat bastard doesn’t want to get shot down when he’s mistaken for a military combatant.

• …that people leave cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeer but they never leave anything at all for the elves, the only people in the entire organization that actually break a sweat slaving away in Santa’s toy factory. Just like everywhere else in the world, the working man goes unappreciated while dirty hippies enjoy the fruits of our labor.

• …that people still insist on looking at Ebenezer Scrooge as the bad guy. Look clowns. Just because you start a business does not mean you are required to buy fat ass geese for all of your employees and fix all of their kids’ problems. They should consider themselves lucky you gave them a job and those three hippy ghosts should go occupy Wall Street or something. Shit, I’m a damn ghost myself and I have half a mind to visit Scrooge and tell him to keep up with his oppression of the downtrodden Victorian London era masses.  It’s good for them. Oppression builds character, I always say.

Maybe one of the aforementioned grievances frosts my ass. Maybe they all do. But 3.5 readers, do you REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT FROSTS MY ASS?

HERE IT IS:

Congratulations. You’re a parent. As if the world didn’t have enough to worry about, now the world has one more mutant spawn to suck up its precious resources.

You work all year. Well, some of you do. Most of you are just writers who scribble a bunch of nonsense then act like your memorialized thoughts and opinions matter to this godforsaken world, but I digress.

You worked and you saved your money. You went out and bought your little whipper snapper the latest toys, gadgets, and gizmos. You enjoyed doing it. You paid attention to what your kid wants and you went around to ten different stores to track down whatever piece of crap he wanted. With tender loving care, you wrapped all the toys up and placed them under the tree.

In short, you put a lot of work into making your kid happy.

So can someone please tell me why, WHY is it that I will be able to walk into any house in America and listen to the adults, who have gathered to watch the kids open their presents, say shit such as:

• “Oh wow. It must be nice to have X piece of crap. I was NEVER lucky enough to have a nice piece of crap like that when I was YOUR age.”

• “Oh, aren’t you spoiled? Look at all these presents.  Do you really need all this crap?”

• “You got Y piece of crap too?  Sheesh, you got X piece of crap AND Y piece of crap. Do you know that when I was a kid my parents only got my brothers and sisters and I ONE piece of crap and we had to share that piece of crap and we considered ourselves lucky to have it?!”

• “Look at that!  That is one top of the line piece of crap!  They hadn’t even invented crap like that when I was a kid. Oh I bet you don’t even appreciate all this crap ya’ little twerp.”

Look, 3.5 readers, and keep in mind this is coming from a guy named Uncle Hardass, so you know what you’re doing is f%&ked up.

Stop it with the passive-aggressive comments on Christmas morning about how your kids don’t deserve all the crap you got them. Even if you think you’re just talking to the other adults, they can hear you.

Honestly. You loved your kids enough to spend your time and money on getting this crap, you gave it to them so there’s a part of you that WANTS them to have it but then all you do is shit on them for having it.

You’re taking all your work and flushing it down the drain. If it really pisses you off that your kids have nicer shit than you did as a kid, then there’s a simple solution. Don’t get them the shit. Sorry kid, I didn’t get shit as a kid, so you shouldn’t get shit as a kid.

Sure, they’ll whine about it now but as adults, they’ll probably be more mentally secure people then the kids who grew up thinking, “Gee, I wonder if I deserve all this crap?”

Either that, or just be happy that you, despite the odds, obtained a level of success great enough that you can afford to buy shit for your kids that your parents weren’t able to buy for you. Call up your parents and laugh at them. Send them pictures of all the shit you bought for your kids and rub it in that you’re a better provider than they were.

Hell, if you even like the shit that much and are jealous of your kids for having it, then just go ahead and play with all those toys and shit while they aren’t looking.

Better yet, play with the toys with them. It might actually make you AND them happy.

What? You didn’t think your old Uncle H was capable of providing such heartwarming advice?

Just goes to show what you don’t know could fill an empty Salt Mine shaft, 3.5 readers.

So Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and listen, make a resolution to stop reading my dumbass nephew’s blog in 2016, will you?

Every time one of you losers gives him a hit he thinks he’s going to make it big and his ego just doesn’t need that kind of unmerited support.

Peace on Earth and goodwill to men, losers.