Tuesday, December 27, 2011

You're Killin' Me Smalls - The Holiday Hangover

There's few feelings that compare to getting to come home for Christmas break after a week of finals fucking your shit up. You're excited to see friends, family, possibly a 30 pound cat who snores so loud he keeps you up at night. Whatever, to each his own. On the way home you realize there are home cooked meals and a giant cozy bed in the near future that can just make a person down right giddy, but once December 25th hits shit tends to go south. 
Spreadin' that holiday cheer

We all get "the holiday hangover." (Props to my main bitch for coming up with that one.) You know that feeling come Christmas day after 2pm once all four of your stupid adult presents are opened and the spirit of Christmas has decided to peace the fuck out. Your family is no longer that sweet, loving, funny group of people you missed so dearly but those inconsiderate fools who keep demanding you not come home stoned out of your mind and eat all their food. Suddenly having the ability to not curse after every other word because seemingly impossible. Then mom and/or dad feels the need to comment every day about how you curse like a sailor, I mean c'mon cut me a fucking break.

Part two of this horrendous holiday switch-a-roo is when your "friends" from high school also become strange and less exciting. I put the word friends in quotes just to clarify that we all see those people from high school we have absolutely zero interest in communicating with and yet are completely fascinated with them because you've been Facebook stalking them all year watching their weight gain progress until they've hit the point of no return, the bad part is everyone has this notion that after high school you're all bff's. False. Back your shit up Shamu, I have enough friends I can't stand I don't need your fat ass taking up more of my newsfeed.

The good news for all you bitches is New Years Eve is on it's way and who doesn't love an excuse to make some horrendous decisions? Especially when drunken debauchery is followed by a list of absolutely ridiculous resolutions about how you're going to be a better person and stop fucking that person who's name you still can't remember. Don't be dumb. You're still a total dick, and chances are when we all crawl back to Oxford you'll dial up whats their name and fuck em like it's 2012.

Peace bitches.

Monday, December 26, 2011