Hey just because I’m always scratching, walking around with spinach in my teeth, and usually hairy doesn’t mean that I am some hillbilly Christmas Grinch. The only issue is that as I get older I would prefer if all the holiday ‘Hul-la-ba-WHO’ would just get over with a tad quicker, that’s all. Far beyond the gallons of Nyquil I brew n’ consume from the still daily; effectively from one second after Halloween through New Years day, life compresses and besieges me as one big, bimonthly burr-blur.
Oh sure it’s easy to act all high & jolly and kiss random elves & animals when mistletoe, rum-laced nog and choco treats race to the brain to free my inner ‘DOPE-amine’. But I really don’t need any more excuses to do LESS work or accost my remaining un-institutionalized friends or their laundry, with good CHEER and random acts of Christmas. Anyway, who wants Santa’s stinking perpetual pine scent all over my trusty rust-bucket and bounty of hoarded stuff for one sixth of my entire life? As long as my wife, a.k.a. ‘Mrs. Claws’, gives me permission to goof off and keep intravenously beefing up my already well powdered and sugar-coated ‘gut-muffin’, every day IS MY holiday Right?!
Yeah I grouse and whine but it’s all in good ‘ol bum-country fun. Actually my inner ‘Grinch’ is rather endearing when I start to pass ou..t - uh sorry?, … the roast beast feast to my cousin, mother, and step-daughter - who all happen to be the SAME person. While city-folk rage over the age-old quandary of ham OR turkey, ‘round here, at our ‘Road-Kill rally’ we can score BOTH, cooked over a roaring Firestone tire fire by the ‘up-chuck wagon’. Usually by Christmas though, not only has my ‘Grinch-initesimal ‘ heart abruptly enlarged, but my beltline and the pan full of cat litter under my Lazy Boy has swelled thrice its size as well.
So you coastal dwellers and holiday snobs can keep all of your fancy long drawn-out traditions, seasonally-lighted houses with the wreath adorned doors, and fake snow on your window panes. In the Midwest we NEVER take down our lights without a court order and we drive around with REAL deer and bloody antlers stuck to our pick-ups. Yes, in the ‘Zarks, we can count on the pleasure of genuine snow and frigidity to brighten our toothless smiles far beyond just the months of November and December. Gee I guess around here every day must be Christmas and I am just an old ‘inbred Grinch’ after all!