Category: Humour

Christmas: The To Don’t List!

ChristmasOnce again, this year, Christmas has snuck up on me.  In two weeks (14 sleeps) Santa Claus is coming down the chimney, and I haven’t decked one hall nor bought one present.  In fact, I’m still sorting the plastic skeletons from Hallowe’en.  Not a good start to the most complicated festival in North America. Fortunately, I have a Christmas To Don’t List that always gets me through the holiday season, and I’m willing to share it with you.

1 – Don’t fight with your family.  Yes, the conditions are just right for a good, old-fashioned family flare-up: you can’t get away; you’re bored out of your skull and Ray’s wife is still the same bitch she always was.  But it’s only for a couple of days, for God’s sake — be nice.  Remember you can ditch your friends if they piss you off, but this is the only family you’re ever going to get — ever — and eventually you’re going to regret being a jerk, so make the best of it.

2 – Don’t tie into the adult beverages like it’s the end of prohibition — pace yourself.  Remember what happened last year.  You got Bob from Shipping under the mistletoe and started looking for his tonsils with your tongue.  You told Bashir, “man-to-man,” that you thought his wife Anna was really hot.  And then you explained to your niece (in detail) that her mother’s first husband was a juggler she married in high school but Nana threatened him with jail time and the marriage was annulled.   None of these drunken revels made for a very holly jolly Christmas, did they?   So use your head and tip the Christmas cheer in moderation.

3 – Don’t get carried away buying presents.  Just because the Three Wise Men brought gold, frankincense and myrrh (what the hell is myrrh, anyway?) that doesn’t mean you have to.  Those credit cards are not a license to go bankrupt.  Use your head: January’s coming.

4 – Don’t deck the halls like Clark W. Griswold.  Yeah, we all love getting into the Christmas spirit, but it’s simply not a good idea to turn your home into an illuminated YouTube sensation.  You have to live with your neighbours the other 11 months of the year. Never forget that.

5 – Don’t eat so damn much!  You’re going to regret it in 6 months when it’s swimsuit season and you look like an ostrich egg on legs.

6 – Don’t watch more than a couple of feel-good holiday movies.  Too much emotional sugar is bad for you, and your perfectly good Christmas is going to appear cheap and tawdry compared to what Bing and Danny accomplished.  And no Martha Stewart until January 15th.

7 – Don’t ever say “Christmas is getting too commercialized.”  You’d just sound like a middle class cliché.

And finally:

8 — Don’t forget Christmas is about loot — the presents you get and the presents you give.  Don’t just buy everybody the same old crap.  Really think about what you’re giving people and why.  And always remember the most precious thing you have to give — or you’re ever going to receive — is time.

Personality Disorder Addiction

personalityIn today’s society, there is no such thing as normal.  We’ve become so obsessed with Psycho-self diagnosis that pretty much every behaviour or personality trait has a syndrome, disease or disorder.  People who line up their coffee cups aren’t simply tidy anymore; they have OCD.  Children who get excited by the wonder of bright, new and beautiful aren’t just being kids; they have ADD.  Nobody’s sad; they’re “clinically depressed” — and on and on.  Unfortunately, we’ve overused these terms so outrageously that they’ve become virtually meaningless.  However, there’s always room for improvement, so here are a few afflictions that might better reflect our contemporary world.

ACAD (Arrogant Celebrity Activist Disorder)  Although ACAD is a condition that only affects famous people, its symptoms are widespread within the celeb community and very severe.  ACAD sufferers are not connected to reality in any way.  They truly believe that — even though they have no education, experience or ability beyond playing a guitar or crying on cue — they have a special insight into the world’s problems.  They generally prance around our planet looking like hypocritical jackasses.  They show up at Climate Change Conferences in chartered jets and stretch limos.  They walk on red carpets wearing enough money to feed an African village for a decade.  They shop Third World orphanages looking for designer children to adopt as if they were cruising Rodeo Drive.  And at the end of it all, these filthy rich assholes have the cojones to try and scam the rest of us into donating our bus money to finance their multimillion dollar hobbies.  There is no cure for ACAD; we just have to put up with it.

SWS (Star Wars Syndrome) Formerly called CCS (Constant Conspiracy Simplex) people with SWS believe the political candidate they chose not to vote for is Darth Vader, secretly engaged in various nefarious plots to ruin the world.  This delusion naturally leads them to the conclusion that the candidate they did choose must be Yoda, a wise and thoughtful leader.  Unfortunately, those  with SWS refuse to consider any evidence which contradicts this simplistic fantasy nor accept the reality that the vast majority of political candidates are, in fact, Jar Jar Binks.  SWS, even in mild cases, eventually causes the sufferer to become angry, defensive and secretly disappointed.  There is only one known cure for SWS — rational thinking.

MFD (Maud Flanders Disease) Named for the dead Simpsons character Maud (“What About The Children?”) Flanders, MFD is a debilitating disorder closely associated with the Cult of Mom.  MFD sufferers are usually found subjecting normal people to endless dissertations about child care adventures or parenting options.  They spend their days mildly annoyed that nobody truly understands what awesome parents they are and become extremely agitated when the entire planet doesn’t come to a screaming halt every time some kid says something cute, has an unassisted toilet experience or throws a temper tantrum.  Recent research has discovered that  MFD is actually a self-perpetuating disease caused by the overwhelming guilt sufferers feel because they don’t actually believe all that bullshit they’ve been spouting.  Be kind to those with MFD: they’ve put their  lives are on hold, and they need to justify that.

EPP (Endless Phobia Phobia)  People who suffer from EPP are unable to voice their opinions for fear of being labeled mentally ill.  They generally smile and nod in agreement when the latest trending accusation is being tossed around, but secretly they wonder if the word “phobia” is even being used correctly anymore.  Beware! EPP is actually contagious; you can catch it from the Eagerly Offended.

And finally:

PCF (Politically Correct Fatigue) After living with Political Correctness for most of their lives, PCF  sufferers are just emotionally tired of it.  They no longer have the mental stamina to bother looking for common sense in the world.  Chronic sufferers don’t even roll their eyes anymore.  There is no known cure for PCF, and the only treatment is old Bill Maher videos.

It’s obvious our entire society is suffering from PDA (Personality Disorder Addiction.)

The War On Plaid

tartan ribbonNovember 30th was St. Andrew’s Day* and I’m declaring war on plaid.  Why?  Last week, after seven unoffending years, a free yoga class at the University of Ottawa, in Canada, was cancelled because of “cultural issues.” (Call it “cultural appropriation.”)  WTF?  Apparently, Downward Dog is a symbol of oppression.  Too bad, so sad — you’re probably better off doing Tai Chi, anyway.  (Ooops!)  But that’s not my point.

If the progressive world wishes to fight for the rights of an oppressed minority, they need look no further than the mean streets and heathery footpaths of Scotland.  Trapped on an island with the great bogeyman of European cultural tyranny, the English — and their minions, the Welsh — we Scots have been getting oppressed for so long it looks like normal to the rest of the world.  And the litany of shame is long.

For centuries, Scots have smiled through the tears as we’ve endured offensive and degrading nicknames like Mac, Jock and Plaidie.  We’ve been objectified in the media — from Brigadoon and Scrooge McDuck to Groundskeeper Willie (I’m not even going to mention Fat Bastard.) and repeatedly portrayed as stupid, cheap and brutal alcoholics who can hardly speak English.  I’m looking at you, Robin Williams.

Our national symbol, the thistle, has been belittled as a weed.  Our music has been lampooned as the missing link between sound and noise.  Our food has been ridiculed as the worst in the world (by the World Health Organization, no less.)  Our underwear (or lack of it) is the subject of mocking public speculation.  Our very name has been appropriated across the planet for a child’s game, hopscotch; a candy flavour, butterscotch; and a transparent adhesive, Scotch tape.  When Mel Gibson turned our national hero William Wallace, into a paint-stained, historically inaccurate, shouting Australian, the world cheered and gave him 5 (FIVE!) Academy Awards — and no voice was raised in Scotland’s defence.

Our national game, golf, an ancient, pastoral activity of poor shepherds, was stolen from us.  Appropriated by the world, it has been transformed into a highly competitive, pay-to-play commercial sport.  It is now the hobby of the very rich — an icon of capitalist success that represents the in-your-face power of the 1%.

However, it is for the tartan that we must weep.  The very symbol of the Scottish family, the intricate, hand-woven patterns were passed down, mother to daughter, for untold generations.  The tartan is a visual reminder of that strongest bond of Scottish familial culture — the clan.  No croft was too humble, no laird was too bold, no Scot or her children were too far from home not to honour the tartan and wear it with pride.  And what did the world do?  PLAID — that’s what!

Ripped from the humble looms of Scottish cottages, PLAID is now synonymous with bad taste all over the world, from those ugly Burberry umbrellas to the ratty, little shirts hipsters wear.  Cheap hotels, discount furniture stores, bargain clothing outlets are all awash in godawful, hideous PLAID.  There’s no end to it, but it must end.

So I’m declaring war on PLAID.  I call on all colleges and universities to ban PLAID from their campuses, and I call on all thinking people everywhere to go to their closets, their linen cupboards, their basements and recreation rooms, and pull the PLAID from your homes.  Pile your PLAID in the streets, and on December 31st, the great Scottish celebration — Hogmanay — burn it.  Burn it so the light from a million fires might reach into the dark night of ignorance and free the Scottish soul from this horrible ordeal.  We must end this cultural nightmare — now!

*FYI, St Andrew’s Day is the Scottish equivalent of St Patrick’s Day — with more booze and less brag.