CuddlyChristmasHopefully by now you’re decorated for the holidays.  Hopefully for you, your neighbors have limited the amount of inflatable snowmen they’ve put on their front lawn.  I didn’t bode so well despite my pleas that nothing really says the holidays quite like no decorations on the outside and listening to Metallica at a reasonable volume.

Again, I didn’t bode well.

We put up a Christmas tree for the holidays, although I’m not sure why since we have approximately 2 square feet of extra space in our house and shoving a fake tree with lights and a sh*t ton of balls on it doesn’t seem like a good use of space.  But I digress.

Every year we put up our tree and I always wonder what our dogs think of it.  However, I’m pretty in tune with my dogs so I asked them what they saw when they looked at our tree and they gave me a pretty accurate description.

Here it is in a graphic, because you love graphics.  And Bentley, Max and Shady Jack say “Happy holidays” to all of you!

What your dog sees when he looks at the (3)

 

 

 

-Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer-It’s no secret that I’m not the hugest Christmas person in the world, which makes no sense, as Christmas has all the makings of a Lisa Newlin favorite holiday.  Food?  Check.  Presents?  Check?  Oversized sweaters to hide the extra cookies you’re smuggling home from grandma’s house? Check.

Wait, why am I not more crazy about this holiday?

One thing I’m definitely not a fan of is Christmas music.  I know.  Ba hum bug.  I just don’t like hearing the same annoying songs every single year for two months.  Forever.  Until I die.  At least Miley Cyrus has an expiration date of when they’ll stop playing her music on the radio. (Fingers crossed.)

But the chipmunks? Those f*ckers will be singing about a flipping hula hoop well after I’ve left this world.

Granted, some holiday songs are more bearable than others, and then there are some that are just weird.  As you may recall, last year I wrote about how “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” was really just a song by a creepy kid.  In that same vein, this year I decided to take another Christmas carol we all merrily sing around the tree and break it down a bit.

Which song did I choose? A song about murder, alcoholism, pill addiction and hope for the holidays.

Let’s get this bad boy started with the beginning line that’s completely grammatically incorrect.

Grandma got run over by a reindeer,”

Um, please tell me this is what you’re yelling to the 911 operator and not what you’re jotting down as the beginning of a catchy tune.  I sincerely hope you didn’t learn of your me-maw’s demise and immediately think “There’s a jingle in there somewhere, I know it.”  Please tell me CPR was attempted.

Coming home from our house Christmas Eve.”

Seriously?  You let an elderly woman walk home by herself on Christmas Eve?  If that’s how you treat her during the holiday season, I’d hate to see what you do to her when it isn’t such a hospitable month. Give the woman a ride.  Geez.

You can say there’s no such thing as santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.”

Seriously?!  You followed up a declaration that your sweet old granny was murdered with a sentence of hope and believing in a mythical creature?!  I just hope you believed in modern medicine because I suspect old gran needed to believe in some morphine and a neck brace.

She’d been drinking too much egg nog,”

Okay, now I’m really starting to like this gram, assuming the egg nog was actually bourbon.  Around the holidays, that’s what I call my bourbon just because it sounds more festive than “I’m going to sit by the fire and polish off a pint of bourbon all by myself.”  See?  Egg nog just sounds better.

And we begged her not to go.”

TOP SECRETUm, was me-maw a 300 pound body builder?  Couldn’t you just stop the frail granny from leaving by simply putting your hand across the door jam and taking her walker?  Really?  You had to beg her to stay and when she refused you were all “You’re on your own old hag!”

Nice.  Real.  Fricking.  Nice.

But she’d left her medication,
So she stumbled out the door into the snow.”

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!  This woman was drinking and forgot her medication so you let her STUMBLE into the SNOW?!  You guys really are a bunch of a-holes.  Don’t you know that “A Christmas Story” runs on a continuous loop for 24 hours on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?

Perhaps you should have torn yourself away from that beloved classic for just a few minutes to make sure your arthritic mimi didn’t fall into the snow in her alcohol-induced state.

When they found her Christmas mornin‘”

YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW SHE WAS DEAD UNTIL THE MORNING WHEN SOMEONE ELSE FOUND HER?!  You didn’t bother to check to see if your drunk me-maw who needed her pills made it home in the effing dark?

I find this a little hard to believe if I’m also to believe that you “begged her not to go.”  I’m beginning to think you didn’t care as much about granny as you claim to.

At the scene of the attack,
There were hoof prints on her forehead,”

He doesn't even seem sorry for runningI hope at this point you’re feeling at least a little bad about the fact you left her out in the cold to get ravaged by wild animals.  And I swear to God if you tell me this was a vampire attack and that Edward Cullen is responsible…I will….just…I will just….

And when you saw the hoof prints on her forehead, please tell me that at least then you called the authorities.  I’m sure CSI could come in to do their thing although I doubt they have a database for hoof prints and their corresponding offenders.

And incriminatin’ Claus marks on her back.”

What.  The.  Hell?  First of all, what are “Claus marks” and second of all, how are they incriminatin’? And third, do you not know proper English? Not only did you allow for a negligent homicide of your gram-gram, you don’t even know how to formulate words or sentences.  I’m beginning to understand why Gram was such an alcoholic pill popper.

You should be ashamed of yourselves.  Instead of writing a nice eulogy for your Gammy, or perhaps going on the news to warn of the dangers of an “incriminatin’ Claus” and his rag-tag reindeer, you decided to write a holiday jingle about her death and how she was left outside in the snow all night long to die simply because you guys couldn’t be bothered to pull yourselves away from the TV?

But hey, at least you ended the song with an uplifting statement about how some people don’t believe in Santa Claus, but you and Grandpa believe.  I realize you meant to suggest…wait…I have no fricking clue what you meant to suggest.  If you truly believed Santa mowed down your Gams, then of course you believe….because he’s guilty.  You should file a police report.

And why are you writing it like believing in the man who took your sweet Gran away  from this world is a positive thing? Is believing in Charles Manson also something we should sing to our kids about?  I’m thinking you and Grandpa are missing your moral compasses.  Perhaps they’re out in the snow clutched in Gran-Gran’s lifeless hands.

I hope you guys didn’t get anything in the will.

-I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause-I’ve never been big into Christmas at all, so Christmas songs are just not my jam.

Fortunately, I’m using this post as an excuse to feature photos of random dogs in Santa gear.  That is totally my jam.

It’s not that I hate Christmas, it’s just that I don’t feel the Christmas spirit people talk about, unless that Christmas spirit is feeling drunk.  Then I totally get that feeling.  I get that year-round.

Don’t get me wrong, I love getting gifts, so please don’t interpret my lack of enthusiasm as a suggestion you don’t need to give me a gift.

Quite the contrary. I need gifts to cheer me up around the holidays because Lord knows the Christmas songs don’t do it.

The other day I was somewhere unwillingly being subjected to Christmas cheer when I heard the song “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”  I’ve found that song annoying for decades but I’ve never really stopped to think about the lyrics.

They’re creepy.  It’s just a super creepy song.

photo credit: Doxieone via photopin cc

photo credit: Doxieone via photopin cc

You already know it’s a song about a kid spying on his mom while she’s dry humping Santa, but I’m going to take it that extra step and break it down for you line-by-line. Don’t worry, I’m going to add my commentary and the questions I have for the kid.

Okay, so he doesn’t technically say he sees them dry humping, but we all know the score.

I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night.”

—-you saw your mom kissing a mythical creature and all you thought to do was write lyrics to a lame song? You didn’t try to snap a photo with your iPhone or use the nanny-camera to record it?  You wrote a song?  Really?

Someone has been watching a little too much Glee.

How do you know it was Santa that your mom was kissing? Lets not jump to conclusions that Santa is stepping out on Mrs. Claus.  Do you have any solid evidence to support the assertion?  Of course you don’t.  You were too lazy to even  SnapChat a picture of this alleged embrace.

Let’s not give Santa the stigma of being a ladies man unless you can back it up with a poorly recorded video.

photo credit: DaPuglet via photopin cc

photo credit: DaPuglet via photopin cc

As for your mom…well…it’s not that shocking that she was caught getting a little naughty during the holidays.  Let’s just say this isn’t her first go-around under the mistletoe.

Which begs the next question. How the hell do you know what a mistletoe looks like? How old are you?!

I’m in my 30s and I’m not sure I could identify a mistletoe, yet you spotted one with your laser vision from across the room?

You’re a weird kid.

She didn’t see me creep
down the stairs to have a peep

—creep is right. You’re a creepy kid who is most definitely going to turn into a peeping Tom.  Given this behavior at such a young age, I’m confident you’re going to grow up to be one of those men who wears garter belts under his work pants and complains that your cats don’t tell you enough that you’re pretty.

Stop creeping on your mom and go back to bed.

photo credit: jdlasica via photopin cc

photo credit: jdlasica via photopin cc

She thought that I was tucked
up in my bedroom fast asleep.”

—that’s where you should be, you spoiled little brat. Don’t you understand what bedtime means? It doesn’t mean “spy on your mom.”

It means you secretly go online and watch episodes of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and look for shots of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s belly button.  That’s what normal boys do!

Why do you have to bother your mom while she’s in the throes of passion?  She’s just trying to get her grove back after shooting out a bunch of kids who don’t know how to follow some simple fricking directions and go to bed when they’re told to.

Maybe Mama wants some “bedtime” of her own. Ever think of that, creeper?

photo credit: AndrewC75 via photopin cc

photo credit: AndrewC75 via photopin cc

Maybe if you weren’t hyped up on energy drinks you wouldn’t have the jitters and could go to bed like a normal human being.

Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus”

—yeah…tickle. That’s what you saw. Just an innocent game of “tickle.” Totally.

Underneath his beard so snowy white”

—I’m not sure what you’re referring to when you say “underneath his beard” but whatever it is, it’s probably nothing someone your age needs to see.

If by “beard” you mean pants, them yeah, she was probably tickling him real nice-like under his “beard.”

Oh, what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night”

photo credit: komehachi888 via photopin cc

photo credit: komehachi888 via photopin cc

—yeah. Daddy finds infidelity hysterical, especially when it’s done in the house he works 70 hours a week to pay for. It’s a real laugh out-loud moment, especially when Daddy finds an extra “beard” balled up on the floor next to the Christmas tree.

Had Daddy seen what was going on, he wouldn’t have gotten a laugh. What he would have gotten was his 12 gauge shotgun and given Santa 10 seconds to put his “beard” back on and leave the premises before the “Stand your ground” rule was enforced.

Daddy is not a fan of gun control…or of mommy whoring it up.

I wish there were more verses to this jolly tune, but the kid who wrote it probably had ADD and moved his focus away from his slut-bag mom and onto the shape of his thumbnail.

Had he not been sidetracked, I suspect the next verse would be about seeing Daddy bitch-slap Mommy and pistol whip Santa Claus.

Somehow, that’s just not as catchy as the original lyrics.

DISCLAIMER:  Yes, I know the song is supposed to suggest that she was really kissing his dad.  I’m not an idiot.  I just like to believe Mommy is getting a little on the side.  

the (1)It’s the most wonderful time of the year!  Actually, that’s totally not true.  The most wonderful time of the year is summer, when it’s 100 degrees and I’m sporting a glowing tan (and a margarita).

I’m not sure why people think Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but I’ll go with it.  It’s an excuse to go to a bunch of holiday parties and stuff copious amounts of desserts from the buffet in my purse.

Don’t think I also don’t do that with liquor.  I totally do.  A flask works nicely to accomplish that task and it’s unassuming when shoved inside your coat pocket.

How did I learn this trick?  My parents.  Duh.  You recall what I found in their pantry.  If you don’t, please read about it.  I’m still chuckling.

Anywhoo…

I know you’ve been fretting about the holidays and what you should buy your favorite blogger.

Me, a-hole.  I’m talking about me.

Because I’m so selfless, I’m going to tell you all the things you should buy me.  I’m  so caring like that.

photo credit: Daniel*1977 via photopin cc

photo credit: Daniel*1977 via photopin cc

Before I give you my list, you’re probably wondering what I’m going to give you in return.

Um, this blog isn’t enough?  A few times a week I write random posts about absolutely nothing.  Isn’t that enough?

It should be.

Without further babbling, here’s a few things I’m demanding requesting for Christmas.  Note:  You don’t have to get just one thing.

Go crazy and get the whole list. The joy it will bring me will be worth it.

A book deal

Lipstick_Co-Author

Okay, so I’m IN this book, but I want a book all to myself! But seriously. You should still buy this one.

Yeah, I’m shocked I don’t have a book deal either.  It isn’t for lack of trying.  I’ve been writing sub-par content for two years now.  You’d think publishers and book agents would be knocking down my door.

If book agents and publishers are pretending to be people putting Chinese take-out menus on my door, then they’re definitely knocking down my door. Otherwise, not so much.

Pajama work pants

Why can’t I dress up yet still be comfortable?  They’ve somehow managed to do this with jeans yet I can’t get a pair of wool blend pants that don’t dig into my belly button?

Someone needs to make that happen.  That someone is you.

Vodka

This is a no-brainer and I’m sure you’ve already purchased this for me.  Good work.  Now go buy another bottle for me.  You know one won’t be enough.

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups eggs

Yeah, it’s Christmas.  I know, but that’s why I want these eggs so badly.

A sweater for Jerry and his Gangsta Gnome Boyz

gangstas in the snowAs you know, I have a gang of gnomes protecting my house and running illegal activities from behind my hydrangia bushes.  It’s the middle of winter now and those thugs are cold.

Jerry, the head gangsta, told me he’d like a hand-knitted sweater for him and his boyz.  Even though they’re dealing hot merchandise, they still get cold at night.

Wow.  I just asked for something that wasn’t even for me.  I’m so thoughtful.  This is yet another reason you should get me everything I want on my list.

What are you waiting for? Get on it.

Until then, I will continue to entertain you with my antics.  Isn’t that the best gift of all?