Cheerful holiday-goers. This is why I hate them. There's just something about the whole "gay apparel" thing that's always turned me off for years now, for a very morbid and confusing reason.

Sure, a lot of people find Christmas their favorite time of year, and see no problem in spending loads of money on shit like fake trees, balloon Frosties, strings of shitty lights, and fiberglass reindeer for their lawn.

The costumes, however, are just something else - the jingle bell necklaces, tacky sweaters, glowing Rudolph noses, snowman earrings, antler headbands, etc... and it's really not the getup in itself, either.

                                          

They say no human being can be perpetually joyful without a major problem. That includes within the month of December. So I can never help but think what it must be like when these freaks finally go out all dressed for happiness and then blow their tops.

I was at a Target the other day and watched as an argument broke out between some uppity bitch and an old bat she thought almost hit her with her car. There were kids around, people shopping for their loved ones, the Salvation Army workers collecting change for the needy - and in the middle of it all, this disgusting display.

It continued into the store, over the sound of Bing Crosby carols and next to giant poster ads suggesting what to buy for her or him this season. And my stomach was just in fucking knots. Uppity bitch was probably pissed the old lady almost soiled her brand new bright red coat and festive holiday scarf. Not a thought, of course, as to what it's supposed to mean when you don your gay apparel. Just the usual, dog eat dog bullshit that plagues our culture daily, the whole "goodwill toward men" thing not really cared for.

That's what makes it so embarrassing. That's what makes me cringe. You'd have to be some special person to be able to dress in holiday garb and have it mean anything; stand for something for the season. Otherwise you're just a major asshole dressed in some gay-ass costume, and the sadness that represents is some kind of pure EVIL.

               

Seriously, the Christians wanna say Satan works as mysteriously as God, maybe this is exactly how.

And my mind's strange workings go even further than seeing something like this and having red flags go up. I go into a store where the employees are wearing Santa hats and red velvet vests with their contrasting Christmasey turtlenecks and my neck goes numb. This usually happens when I'm feeling embarrassed for someone.

It's embarrassing cuz all I can think about is, what happens if a gunman were to show up and blow everyone away? The whole place is so festive and bright and showcasing what the spirit of the season is supposed to mean, and the next minute they're having their last photo taken in a pool of blood with a chinzy sweater and a brain-splattered Santa hat hung haphazardly over their face.

                  

I don't wear festive shit for any holiday just because I wouldn't want to die in some gay ass sweater with the Star of Bethlehem on it. I wouldn't want to forget what the season is about and go apeshit on a customer cuz I'm working overtime on the holiday. I don't want anyone to catch me in an argument with some old bat in a parking lot while my snowflake earrings spin around and my blinking necklace is cutting off my air supply.

Basically, pretty much no one but Jesus and retarded people are cut out for dressing the part. I mean, people actually go the distance by trying to make Santa sweaters look badass....

                                   


I told you it was morbid. Yet I'm not the only one that notices this and feels pain from it.

Lewis Black, a great Jewish comedian I've highlighted before, has a bit on one of his stand up programs about just that. He only touches on it for a minute, but it's clear he's disturbed by the very same thing. According to him, there is no experience like walking into a casino at Christmastime. It's the same shit, greedy fuckers pulling levers, borrowing against their cars and homes, losing massive amounts of money, screaming and having fits over their bad luck, and all over the faint sound of The Little Drummer Boy...


Of course, chances aren't too likely a group of happy holiday employees would be murdered in cold blood, so perhaps this can be chalked up to having seen Die Hard a few too many times at a very young age. Or any of the other horrific movies a child with a very into-Christmas-spirit family should never be allowed to view even for a second. I may have to talk to a counselor about this, but then again, understanding this perplexity as a major societal problem, I may instead have to send a letter of thanks to Bruce Willis.

                                


Yippie-kai-yay, motha fucka.