Well, it appears to be that post-time again. More accurately, it appears to be several post-times:
1) The Multi-Annual Mark-Makes-Another-Blog-Post Time
Sweet jesus, people — are we really this impatient? Why does Thanksgiving always get skipped as we rush headlong into the clusterfuck of the yuletide season? By all means, Americans should take the time to stop and celebrate Thanksgiving, lest we forget our heritage. (Of overeating, that is.)
I certainly won’t claim I abstain from any winter holiday celebrations — I’m a sucker for those classic Christmas movies (well, at least the ones I consider classic) — but I think it’s important we realize the ridiculousness of the whole business. Christmas certainly has a magic to it, but (and here comes the cliché!) that magic shouldn’t come from a store. Corny, I know, but just think about it.
Personally, nothing could ever replace my father cursing like a 1920‘s sailor as he attempts to get that “goddamn, pain-in-the-ass” tree straight for the “millionth damn time” even though I’m trying my hardest to help and doing everything he says but I’m pretty sure he cut the “worthless, motherfuckin trunk” crookedly so it’s going to rest crookedly in the “piece-of-shit” stand no matter what I do. On the sidelines are my mother and sister: the former watches silently, washing her hands of the entire matter. The latter, in a fit of laughter, assumes this verbal debauchery is all my fault. Ah, decking the halls with profanity — such a lovely family experience. Yet I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
But I digress. Dear readers, find your own way to celebrate the holidays (yes, holidays — don’t forget there’s more than just Christmas) — even if it is just finding the “fun” in “dysfunctional.” (Or, more colorfully, that “malfunctioning, defunct, infundibular bitch of a tree.”) (No, my father did not actually use any of those words., but they were too good to pass up.)
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- Here there be monsters: the Carta Marina, a 16th-century map of the world.
- Finally, my desire to stake a hipster is justified.
- Getting into academia is apparently trickier than I first assumed.
- Better Book Titles – surpassing SparkNotes both in accuracy and hilarity.
- SnuggieSutra. No, that is not a typo. You now know what to get me for Christmas.
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Well, that’s about all for now, dear readers. Look back soon for another edition of Ridiculous Gifts. (Suggestions are welcome. As are donations, morally loose women, eight balls of coke, and bulk packages of peanut M&Ms. )