Now that nobody wants to talk about politics ever, ever again, it’s time to get down to the real important stuff: using trivial opinions on overplayed seasonal “classics” to determine your worth as a person!
We Wish You A Merry Christmas: You’ve got maybe one good story, but after subjecting your friends and family to abundant retellings at every gathering, they’ve come to consider it one too many. Yeah, your old fashioned ways can be considered part of your charm, but all bets are off once you start hitting that figgy pudding. What even is figgy pudding? Oh who knows, but count on you to find the last traces of it from like the 18th century and lead the festivities down the tubes.
All I Want For Christmas Is You: You really have your priorities in order, that’s for sure. We’re in no way condoning that order, because a) human trafficking is a real and serious issue b) that’s a lot of pressure to put on another flawed human individual with independent wants and needs and c) seriously, you know they can make almost anything out of chocolate these days, right? We’re living in the future, who needs human companionship when you’re living in a world of infinite chocolatey possibilities? Also, I guess world peace is a possible thing too, but that’s boring as hell.
Chanukah Song: Sure, you’re a bit gimmicky, formulaic, and probably just the slightest bit offensive, but aren’t we all? Whatever,you’re just living your life.
Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer: You know the real plague facing modern society: overpopulation. There’s just too many people polluting, eating, and defacing all of nature’s precious and limited beauty. Well, there’s one way for sure to cut down on the masses…bye bye, Grandma. Rudolf had the right idea, the baby boomers have gotta go.
A Holly Jolly Christmas: 11:59 on October 31st, you waited, garland in hand, grinch costume already discarded on the floor in pursuit of a far nobler cause. All of your Christmas shopping had been finished in May, and the preparations to your house for this year’s Great Christmas Light Fight were done by August. Only heathens wait to deck the halls after Thanksgiving, or till Black Friday to begin shopping. This truly is the Most Wonderful Time.
Audio From “The Strike”: Sure, there’s no official Festivus song, but that doesn’t stop you. It simply isn’t December without an aluminum pole in the living room, and all your grievances out there for the world to come to terms with. Honestly, the world would be much better if people embraced their own cynic, or at least a more interesting one, so good on you buddy. Also, if you actually get this reference, you’re either super old or know how to google. Either way, congrats.
Jingle Bells: Every morning, you wake yourself in a shower of red bull and glitter.
Jingle Bell Rock: Every morning, you wake yourself in a shower of red bull and glitter, but somewhat classier.
Silent Night: Okay sure, they might know you as the grumpy ol’ “you kids get off my lawn!” one in the area, but hey, you’re just doing you. We here at the Macaroni can respect that. However, the fact that your holiday song of choice describes a newborn baby like it’s a bucket of KFC is creepy as hell. “Tender and mild”??? What’s wrong with you, besides the obvious baby cannibalism and very cult-like behavior? It’s always the quiet ones…
Baby, It’s Cold Outside: Date rape much? Seriously, if you like the roofie song, you’re either some young white guy who doesn’t have to worry about getting more than a Rick Perry’s campaign worth of jail time (yeah, there was a promise of no politics, but come on, who even cares who Rick Perry was anyway) or the Broom Closet Sasquatch.
Little Drummer Boy: Wow, we get it, you fold your socks and floss twice a day. What a noble effort against the “war on christmas”. Oh, and has anyone ever mentioned how incredibly traumatic drums are to babies, or to anyone for that matter? It’s like an executioner’s heartbeat…you need to chill and cut that crap out.
I Have A Little Dreidel: Your very successful crafting business is really coming along. People just love how enthused you are about the products, although maybe you could tone it down a bit? Like, sure, you salvage your own locally sourced clay. Aren’t you special.
The Chipmunk Song: You are not a person. You are literally a demon sent to earth to punish us all for laughing at each other’s misfortune, and deserve to be treated as such. Get out.
Santa Baby: By day, you’d pass for an average member of society, but it’s becoming increasingly more obvious to those around you that you’ve been moonlighting those wine mom blogs again. Even your cat knows better than to stay in the room when you get that glint in your eye, and the cashiers at Tops have flat-out refused to serve you since you spotted ‘nog had hit the shelves again, and decided they shouldn’t be the only ones checking people out. Your family is deeply concerned for you, and wishes you would stop being so handsy with the licensed medical professionals who are only trying to help.
It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas: Okay listen, I know you probably went through life expecting people to give you gold stars for every little thing and I should probably antagonize you for that, but honestly all that aside, I’ve got some bad news for you…it’s called global warming.
Auld Lang Syne: Oh, you sentimental old sap. Never could grasp that time is a meaningless construct invented by a bunch of old dead dudes who walked around in bedsheets and glorified flip-flops, could you? Well, better luck next year.