Don’t get me wrong, Christmas is one of the happiest times of the year. Free presents, shit tons of food, and your whole family getting drunk on some fruity drink your mom makes; what could be better?
For me, the sight of lights going up, tacky red velvet ribbon and decorations involving an obese bearded pedophile involve feelings of intense terror.
Some people are lucky. They’re afraid of spiders or snakes, and occasionally you’ll find a nut-bag who gets a little tense around something really strange, like Styrofoam. But me, no. I had to have one bad experience as a child and suffer the consequences every holiday season for as long as I can remember.
Ok, HONESTLY, who could love a face like that? Have you ever wondered why he lives by himself on a mountain? I know why! Because that is literally a face not even a mother could love. He looks like a walking, talking furry booger. And you people are all obsessed with him. I don’t understand. He wants to fucking steal Christmas! He wants to CREEP into your house, take all your possessions (Let’s face it—you know he’s going to take ALL the presents and whatever other valuable shit you have laying around. He has a deformed heart) and ruin the best holiday of the year. And you all revere him. To this day I don’t understand and I am highly upset.
Some of you might argue that he changes in the end. SO fucking what?! In the criminal justice system, this “thing” is a felon. Lock him up! He stole millions of dollars of those crack snorting Whos’ junk and he just gets away with it, because his heart “grows” (um, physically impossible) and he returns everything. So you’re going to tell me that if some 6 foot tall, hairy, green, wrinkled creature stole a bunch of your expensive stuff, all the while laughing in a creepy way that literally makes me want to pee myself, and upon seeing you were blatantly upset, returns it all, that you would just FORGIVE him?
Aw, hell no! I am willing to do what those dumb Whos should have done in the first place. Beat the crap out of that thing. That is, if I could even look into those jaundiced eyes long enough for me to initiate a fight.
What about the stuff you broke, you stupid Grinch? How are you going to replace the gifts you ruined? It’s not like there’s jobs available for fucking hairy green hermits. Unless you want to work at a car wash and be attached to the device that scrubs the cars off you’re out of luck. You ruined Christmas.
Don’t even get me started on the baby Grinch either. You think he’s cute, huh? When’s the last time you saw a baby completely bite through a ceramic plate? You ever go up to a baby and offer it a bowl or a mug for a snack? NO. You don’t. That’s fucked up. Obviously if its teeth and jaw were that strong at such a young age, he could bite through bones and probably kill me. And you know I’d be the first target because I love Christmas and if my nose was about 5 times bigger I would look just like Cindy Lou Who.
I would give anything to just be afraid of spiders.
For me, the sight of lights going up, tacky red velvet ribbon and decorations involving an obese bearded pedophile involve feelings of intense terror.
Some people are lucky. They’re afraid of spiders or snakes, and occasionally you’ll find a nut-bag who gets a little tense around something really strange, like Styrofoam. But me, no. I had to have one bad experience as a child and suffer the consequences every holiday season for as long as I can remember.
 | ||
| The mother-fucking Grinch |
Ok, HONESTLY, who could love a face like that? Have you ever wondered why he lives by himself on a mountain? I know why! Because that is literally a face not even a mother could love. He looks like a walking, talking furry booger. And you people are all obsessed with him. I don’t understand. He wants to fucking steal Christmas! He wants to CREEP into your house, take all your possessions (Let’s face it—you know he’s going to take ALL the presents and whatever other valuable shit you have laying around. He has a deformed heart) and ruin the best holiday of the year. And you all revere him. To this day I don’t understand and I am highly upset.
Some of you might argue that he changes in the end. SO fucking what?! In the criminal justice system, this “thing” is a felon. Lock him up! He stole millions of dollars of those crack snorting Whos’ junk and he just gets away with it, because his heart “grows” (um, physically impossible) and he returns everything. So you’re going to tell me that if some 6 foot tall, hairy, green, wrinkled creature stole a bunch of your expensive stuff, all the while laughing in a creepy way that literally makes me want to pee myself, and upon seeing you were blatantly upset, returns it all, that you would just FORGIVE him?
Aw, hell no! I am willing to do what those dumb Whos should have done in the first place. Beat the crap out of that thing. That is, if I could even look into those jaundiced eyes long enough for me to initiate a fight.
What about the stuff you broke, you stupid Grinch? How are you going to replace the gifts you ruined? It’s not like there’s jobs available for fucking hairy green hermits. Unless you want to work at a car wash and be attached to the device that scrubs the cars off you’re out of luck. You ruined Christmas.
Don’t even get me started on the baby Grinch either. You think he’s cute, huh? When’s the last time you saw a baby completely bite through a ceramic plate? You ever go up to a baby and offer it a bowl or a mug for a snack? NO. You don’t. That’s fucked up. Obviously if its teeth and jaw were that strong at such a young age, he could bite through bones and probably kill me. And you know I’d be the first target because I love Christmas and if my nose was about 5 times bigger I would look just like Cindy Lou Who.
I would give anything to just be afraid of spiders.
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