Every Winter, sometime about mid- to late-November, the world trips over a candy cane and realizes...it's almost Christmas!!!! And so out come the trees, the garland, the fake snow, the little Santas and Nativity scenes, the red-and-green gift wrap, the mint-flavored Christmas coffee. But most of all, the holiday music. Pretty much every mapped square-foot of shopping space is haunted by echoes of "...bells! Jingle all the blaaaah..." or "...angels sing! Glory to the newborn blaaaah..." And especially everyone's absolute favorite shouted refrain of "FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!" That's the only part of the song anybody really cares about. I'd even hazard a guess that at least 50% of people that know the song don't remember the gifts following the fifth day and might not even know the proper order of the first four. And that's what I'd like to look at today, we're going to analyze The Twelve Days of Christmas.
Let's start with a partridge in a pear tree. Some of you may actually be wondering what a partridge even looks like. This is a partridge. Funny looking little thing, right? Would you seriously want a miniature wild turkey flapping around in your living room? Do you actually have room for one of these in your house? Let's quickly run down the next 3 days of gifts so we can get to the good stuff. By the end of the fourth day, we will have added two turtle doves, three French hens, and four calling birds to our collection. The carpet is probably 9 different colors of bird crap and smells like it too. There are feathers everywhere, the birds are always fighting and squawking, we may have taken to drinking by this point. But...
FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!!!! Yup, they came in the mail this morning. I pretend to myself that four of them are apologies for the past four days of crappy gifts. The fifth I cherish and immediately jam onto my finger. Because, yes, I'm just that greedy. Honestly, I've forgotten the other gifts already. I can hear the noise and I know they're birds of some kind, but I'm not sure of what sort they are or what order they came in. Nothing is more important than my FIVE GOLDEN RINGS! I can settle down and enjoy the rest of the Christmas season now.
But alas, it's the sixth day and as much as I thought the rest of December would peaceful, six geese showed up on my doorstep this morning. Each one of them laying eggs, too! Are you kidding me, lover? I have ten birds destroying my house and my sanity as it is! You send me six bigger birds, all stressed out and popping eggs all over the place. The other birds are scaring them and you can hardly see through the fog of feathers sifting through every room. And naturally the next day you send me seven swans. Seven swans, who need to swim for some reason. They've locked themselves in the bathroom and are hogging the tub. I'm going to smell worse than my carpets by the time Christmas rolls around. Please. Cut it out with the birds. I mean the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS are awesome, they're my favorite. But I have twenty-three birds. That's more than anyone needs, really.
Day 8: Okay so when I said I like the rings and didn't need anymore birds, I pretty much meant I didn't really need anymore anything. I woke up to find a dead cow surrounded by eight maids. They milked it dry, you psychopath. Do you think that's funny? A cow does not need to be milked by eight women at the same time. It's lunacy. Besides, I live in the city, what would I even need a single maid a'milking? That's the most useless thing you could have given me. You would have given Anne Frank a drum set, retard. Please don't send me any more women!
Listen here, woman! I love you dearly, but you're starting to try my patience. When I mocked you about the drum set, I in no way implied that I actually wanted drums. Nine freaking drummers drumming? Are you serious? Like really, the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS were amazing. But no more birds, no more women, just nothing else. Cut it out. Oh great, pipers, that's all I needed. Ohhh and they're actually piping too, awesome. Now there's a freaking punk concert on my front lawn, fabulous. They're scaring the birds, dammit! I don't know what kind of game you're playing but it really needs to stop.
December 26. Dear lover, thanks to you I spent the night in jail. After your dancing ladies and leaping lords showed up, I fired my shotgun into the air to shut everyone up. That sent all the birds into a panic and they rushed the maids, who had been getting it on with the lords. The drummers and pipers were still playing their blasted noise for the ladies dancing. So I guess one of the neighbors couldn't stand the nonsensical ruckus anymore and called the cops. They held me for questioning and forced me to stay for the night to calm down. I told them it was all your fault, lover. So they are coming for you. I feel no pity, you lunatic. Merry freaking Christmas. Oh but thanks for the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!
No matter what you believe in these days, I wish you a happy whatever it is,
- Sad Blogger
