If the Grinch ran Christmas, it wouldn’t smell like pine and cinnamon. It would smell like regret and warm beer. The lights would flicker like a bad decision, and the carols would sound suspiciously like a police siren in the distance.

Then come the photos. Santa holding a screaming child who looks like he’s seen things. A Christmas tree decorated with crushed beer cans, tangled lights, and pure confidence. And yes, Santa halfway down the chimney, clearly using it as a bathroom. These are cry-for-help postcards.

This is Christmas unleashed. No rules. The Grinch didn’t steal Christmas. He gave it beer money, a camera, and absolutely zero supervision.