Ho Ho Ho-ly Crap! Damn this year has just flown by. All I can really remember is a blur of Big Macs, chocolate shakes, and porn...lots and lots of porn. Well, as comes the time every year, it is the season for ol’ Saint Nick to pay us all a visit and slide down our chimneys like Solid Snake out of Metal Gear. The jolly old bastard probably even has night vision goggles to watch all of those little boys and girls sleep...creepy red velvet wearing pedophile.

It has become a tradition at our house to celebrate Christmas with my parents and nephew who fly out from Frozen Ass, Indiana to enjoy the fun in the sun here in Phoenix, Arizona. Also there has been a tradition set that every year I do something more fucked up than the last when it comes to Christmas. The first year they came out we had “poor Christmas” where basically they received gifts like one pickle dipped in glitter and a nine-volt battery. This was more due to the fact that we were actually poor than any sort of theme set by me.

The next year I knew I had to up the ante, so we had a National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation Christmas. I dressed up like cousin Eddie with the skin tight sweater with black dickie underneath, skin tight and too small dress slacks, and a sweet pair of white and gold loafers. Not only were my parents shitting their pants when they got off the plane, so were all of the families waiting on their loved ones to get off the plane too. I am sure my, “Merry Christmas...Shitters Full” helped usher in the holiday for all the children in attendance.

Well, this year I had to come up with something better, so I decided to merge my two favorite holidays together and have a “Merry Halloween”. Yeah, I could have just had a Nightmare Before Christmas Christmas, but from the cost of the Nightmare Before Christmas crap in the stores you’d swear Jack Skelenton and Sally were dipped in gold that was melted in the slag pit of hell looked after by Michael Landon.

How do you have a “Merry Halloween”? Well, with all of the other families decorating their houses for the holidays I decided we needed to do the same. I mean, if I can’t tap into the Jone’s Wi-Fi to look at pornography and monitor their movements with their own web cams, I had better at least try to decorate like them to show my holiday spirit. I noticed out in front of everyone’s apartments there were wreaths and doormats with some sort of Santa or festive motif. We can’t pass up this opportunity to spread our holiday joy as well so out went our black and orange dead wreath, ghost doormat and rubber bat. The casual passer-by might have thought that the apartment complex was cracking open the threshold of hell, but a few wise neighbors knew it was only the weird fat kid up to no good again with his damn rubber bats and wagon full of Big Macs.

I noticed in all of the apartments their were ginger-bread houses and cheesy holiday candles featuring Frosty, Santa, or Baby Jesus flying through the air with a red cape on, so I thought we might mimic these things on our coffee table as well. We have a evil haunted house filled with the souls of the Lego men who never made it into Lego Heaven because of their pagan ways, evil bat lanterns that over-flow with convenient lighting for the damned, and tons of rats and spiders placed all over the house to scare the shit out of my cats. My cats hate bats and rats. They like to lay on mats and occasionally have spats. They know I am fat and I don’t wear hats, but good goddamn this is not a Doctor Suess book.

Hanging in all the warm and cozy apartments around me are stockings filled with crap people buy at Wal-greens when they figure out it is Christmas Eve, they are drunk, and blew all of their money on “Crimson” at the local strip club. Yeah, the wife and kids may not be happy, but screw them...it is Christmas Eve and if you wanted to pretend “Crimson” was blind Mary Engles from Little House on the Prairie and you were naughty and drunk Mr. Edwards, it was your business. Well, stockings would never do for our Christmas in homage of Lucifer, so instead we use jack-o-lanterns that weep the tears of all the forsaken children of Guatemala. Inside each jack-o-lantern isn’t crappy books of Life Savers or Santa Claus theme silly putty. No, inside our “stockings” are mangled body parts, squishy bugs, stretchy bats, bizarre satanic themed candy, and things so evil they can’t even be formulated into the English language, which is what I am butchering while writing this. What would you rather get: a Santa Claus pen that plays a little song, or an army of velour spiders to do your wicked bidding? If you chose the pen you are mentally retarded and should now strap on your helmet and “drool bib”.

Lets see we have outside festivities, inside knick-knacks, and “stockings”...but I believe we are missing something. Hmmm....what would it be? Oh yeah, that is right...the most demonic Christmas tree ever unleashed upon the human population of Earth. This tree took 10 cans of spray paint and the blood of 7 virgins to fully coat. Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin now days? Try adding the stipulation that they have to have blonde hair and blue eyes and you are easily working on coaxing them into your van and gassing them with ether most of the year, but this demonic Christmas tree is worth it. The tree is completely black with hints of blood red paint splattered throughout. Upon it are the most sinister orange Christmas lights money can buy and a plethora of mini jack-o-lanterns to act as our ornaments. Add 231 bags of fake cobwebs and you have yourself a tenenbaum so wicked it could easily persuade Elvira to sleep with me.

That is LaVarious’ famous Halloween Christmas, sure to be talked about for generations to come. I am sure a bronze statue will be placed on the very ground where this event occurred, but it will probably be some sort of memorial for the 3,651 souls of small woodland mammals I consumed on Christmas to make my tree come to life and attack the noisy neighbors below me. I hope you got a lot of loot for the holiday and if there are any leftovers please let me know so I can come over to clean them out for you. Unless it is just shitty fruit cake, then I suggest you bury it 30 yards away from your house to keep the radiation leakage at bay.

***More Photos of Crap***

 

***BONUS HOLIDAY CRAP***

Well, twas the night before Christmas and all through my house my stomach was growling so I decided to go eat some crap before one of my cats became “kitty-tar-tar”. My local Sonic Drive-In has a bunch of dip-shits working in it that never get my order right, so I decide to fire them off one of the most bizarre complaint letters ever written, because frankly...I really have no life. Enjoy!:

Dear Sonic,

I have visited the Sonic Drive-in at 40th Street and Greenway Road many times over the course of the 4 years that I have lived in Phoenix, Arizona. I am always amazed at how many times my orders have been incorrect with either something being left out of my order altogether or even getting a sack of food that I never actually ordered to begin with. Sure, the occasional boughts of diarrhea associated with eating food from Sonic should have had a logical impact on me, but I decided to shrug it off and go back time and time again. Is it the greasy hamburgers or soggy bread that keeps me torturing myself time and time again or is it the little girls in roller-skates that bring my order to me like I am King Lardo in my piece of crap car? I imagine it is the roller skate wearing vixens who draw me to Sonic like a stray fly to a bug-lite.

Well, tonight the workers have yet again held me ransom by not giving me a few packets of bbq sauce, which I ordered with my amazing meal consisting of soggy popcorn chicken and grease laden tater-tots. Sure, I know you are asking yourself, “why a grown man would order tater-tots?” I like to order them so I can pretend I am in my elementary school cafeteria. From time to time I will even shove a couple up my nose while blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk, but that really isn’t the point. The point is the drunken staff of happy elves at the Sonic yet again screwed up my order.

Now travel with me and ponder this thought: In an order of 2 items how can you possibly mess up? I mean, I didn’t even want to burden them with ordering a beverage, because frankly I would rather get the 2 items I ordered instead of a sack of crap Johnny Link-n-Log three cars back ordered. Yeah, I am sure his sack of 93 Bacon Cheddar Toasters might fill me up, but I really didn’t order those and I can’t make a dime off of them because they would spoil before I could put them on eBay. I mean, I always have the option of hooking a basket to my bicycle and getting a sweet shiny silver horn to honk as I peddle down the street trying to pimp my warez to the local children, but I think they’d rather have something sweet.

What do I want? I just want to goto Sonic one time in my cholesterol saturated life and not urinate on myself when I get home and find that the staff have yet again not given me something in my order. I am not going to drive another 10-15 minutes back tracking to pick up some food item that is going to shorten my life by 7 years, but I would expect these things to not happen as often, if at all. I bet with all of the food and condiments that particular Sonic has shorted me on the past 4 years could easily buy me a ticket on the next space shuttle to the International Space Station. You know what I will do when I get up there? Well, lets just say it involves a Big Mac and not a Bacon Cheddar Toaster, so there go your millions in product placement. Can you grant my Christmas wish this year and make my Sonic give me all of my order? I won’t even ask that the staff dance around singing about “hot chocolate” like the servers on the Polar Express.

XOXO
LaVarious

-LaVarious
12 -25-05