charlesoberonn:

Holiday greetings. It is I, Winston George Higgensbooth Sr., real estate tycoon and hater of children and Christmas cookies… or at least that’s what the perky soap-opera star who runs the corner cocoa shop has been telling everyone on Main Street in this close-minded, glitter-choked, fabric-snow-stuffed Hallmark movie town.

In reality, I’ve decked many a hall and “fa”ed many a “la.” My wife used to make incredible gingerbread cookies, which I would mold and shape into staggering gingerbread houses and—better yet—gingerbread multi-family properties.

So why am I a villain? Oh, right, because I believe the most valuable commercial space in town could be used for something more vital than a store solely dedicated to Santa hats. Yeah, I do believe that, and you know what else? I think the growing and diverse community of Pine Creek or Snowy River or whatever-the-fuck would be better served by a thriving city center than a free-standing, dilapidated toy shop.

After spending a few days in this community with my son—who, incidentally, is falling in love with the owner of said toy shop—I feel even more dedicated to my efforts. That toy shop owner barely even opens her business on a normal day. Most afternoons, she’s visiting tree farms and baking sugar cookies with my son. Yesterday they had a snowball fight and nearly kissed in the gazebo. Cool job, lady, but the rest of us have a living to make.

I intend to build a five-story mixed-use complex in the middle of town, thereby making the city center more prosperous and accessible while relieving our strained housing market. But these NIMBY cocoa-snorters would rather that space be used for their favorite Christmas tree lot. Well, sorry kids, there are eleven other months in a year, and people need homes to live in.

Before I was made a widower (in a family tragedy some townspeople cruelly dismiss as my “backstory”), my wife would remind me not to lose sight of the reason for the season. And I agree. Joy, cheer, and togetherness are all very important, but lest we forget on that blessed Christmas night referenced in our carols, baby Jesus needed a room, and the town DIDN’T HAVE ONE.

So screw every single one of you reindeer-clad, ornament-obsessed weirdos who forbid progress because your one month of traditions are more important than creating affordable housing and a functional local economy for everyone year-round. Fuck the cocoa shop lady, and the Santa hat store manager, and that toy store chick. I don’t care how happy she makes my son. She’s a fascistic yuletide narcissist. The only way to solve this housing crisis is to build more ho-ho-ho-HOMES. And no climactic town square singing or Jingle Bell Ball buffoonery will convince me otherwise. Not this time.

I’m buying every Christmas inn from here to Sleighbell Springs and filling them up with families before you can say “auld lang syne.” If that makes me a villain, then I, Winston George Higgensbooth Sr., cordially invite you to kiss my fat, furry, sugarplum ass.


Tags:

#I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #storytime #Christmas #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what

itsbenedict:

Then began the elaborations upon the theme. Phrases hummed too slow, with long pauses in between, so that the listener’s mind helplessly waits and waits for the next note, the next phrase. And then, when that next phrase comes, it is so out of key, so unbelievably awfully out of key, not just out of key for the previous phrases but sung at a pitch which does not correspond to any key, that you would have to believe this person had spent hours deliberately practicing their humming just to acquire such perfect anti-pitch.

It bears the same semblance to music as the awful dead voice of a Dementor bears to human speech.

And this horrible, horrible humming is impossible to ignore. It is similar to a known lullaby, but it departs from that pattern unpredictably. It sets up expectations and then violates them, never in any constant pattern that would permit the humming to fade into the background. The listener’s brain cannot prevent itself from expecting the anti-musical phrases to complete, nor prevent itself from noticing the surprises.

The only possible explanation for how this mode of humming came to exist is that it was deliberately designed by some unspeakably cruel genius who woke up one day, feeling bored with ordinary torture, who decided to handicap himself and find out whether he could break someone’s sanity just by humming at them.

-HPMOR, chapter 84– and also, apparently, EVERY RADIO STATION IN THE GODDAMN COUNTRY THIS TIME OF YEAR

 

itsbenedict:

these motherfuckers have to take these songs and “make them their own”, put their own special goddamn english on the ball, and the only way they can think to do this is by changing EVERY OTHER GODFORSAKEN NOTE into some horrible warbling yodel to show off their vocal range! bastards reluctantly dip their toes back into the original melody just long enough to remind you what song you’re listening to, before zooming STRAIGHT back to their amateur opera tryouts!

When I first read this post, I thought you were exaggerating.

“It’s not *that* bad,” I thought. “Like, yeah I’ve been nonconsensually exposed to dozens of hours of Christmas music at work over the last month, and it’s repetitive and imbalanced (it took dozens of hours! for me to hear *one* ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing’!), but it’s generally not especially out of tune–”

–and then I went to the bank today and holy *shit* I know *exactly* what you mean. Oh my *god*, I never thought I would be *grateful* for CHYM FM, Kitchener’s Christmas Music Mix®, but at least we’re not playing whatever the fuck the bank is on.

#and i’m STUCK IN A HOUSE with parents who insist on being MAXIMALLY FESTIVE, #and refuse to NOT HAVE CHRISTMAS MUSIC PLAYING AT ANY TIME FOR THE ENTIRE MONTH, #I HAVE OVER 300 CONFIRMED KILLS. I AM TRAINED IN GORILLA WARFA-

Oh, so *that’s* who the all-Christmas-all-the-time stations are aimed at? All this time I’ve been wondering why society keeps doing it, given that I have heard many complaints and zero praise for the practice.

(…do your parents also actively prefer that Daylight Savings Time changeovers exist? That’s another thing in the same category.)

(I still think CHYM should do for Christmas what they did for Halloween: mix a few holiday songs into the normal rotation for the day itself and a couple days beforehand. They *could* even do it for several weeks beforehand, if they insisted on keeping that aspect.)


Tags:

#Christmas #music #reply via reblog #venting #in which Brin has a job

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werewolfjokewar:

Santa is on strike due to global warming.  All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger.  Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.

 

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

“MUST BRING PRESENTS TO GOOD CHILDREN”

“Yes good”

“AND EAT THE BAD ONES”

“Wait no”

“EAT THEM”

“sasha no”

 

tolkientrash:

@burstofhope the Christmas tiger is watching

 

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

She is making a list

It is not easy with her paws but she is making it

 

iguanamouth:

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shes almost here

 

riverdancekat:

Okay fine this is the ONE Christmas thing I will reblog before Thanksgiving BUT THAT’S IT

 

craptaztic:

SASHA’S BACK ON MY DASH!

 

nordy-draws-stuff:

Y’all better behave, you have two months

 

aseriouscomedian:

You better watch out

You better watch out

You better watch out

You better watch out

 

final-girl-cas:

Sasha the Christmas tiger my absolute beloved


Tags:

#Christmas #Tumblr traditions #art #death tw #murder cw #cannibalism cw

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eyetosky:

THROW OFF THE JANGLY YOKE OF OPPRESSION

 

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

“WE ARE THE FUTURE RUDOLPH, NOT THEM”

 

dr-archeville:

M: “What’s your name?”

R: “Rudolph.”

M: “What’s your real name, Rudolph?”

R: “… Red-Nose.”

M: “Quite a talent you have there, Red-Nose.”

 

dr-archeville:

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miscreant-side-puffs:

The only holiday post worth the season


Tags:

#my workplace has started playing Christmas music again so it’s time to think about this post at least once per hour #Tumblr traditions #Christmas #art #fanart #comics #X Men #crossovers

rustingbridges:

Canada Post has assigned postal code H0H 0H0 to the North Pole

Tags:

#one December I was at a party and I won a trivia round by knowing this #I’m drinking out of the water bottle I won right now #our home and cherished land #Christmas #the more you know

the-swift-tricker:

unichrome:

6d8c8fbae0c318380e7c709321b9b43db7bbe5f0

HE IS HERE

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ada1dc0ad9b865aca9e72081fdf4e3d65c348b32
b03c3fac8f71c064c16125ffc3b7cb979713b27c

(Note: the OP is from 2019 while the response is from 2020. However, I just looked it up and Gävle *does* have a goat this year [link]. It’s just not the one pictured, is all.)


Tags:

#Christmas #goats #sculptures #fire #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #(decided to move the tag notes to the main text body for better rebloggability)

moral-autism:

couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name:

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me when I hear my family making big Christmas plans that ignore the state’s mandate that says no more than 10 people in a space 

Somehow I don’t think your heart is going to grow three sizes if you see them gather with a large group of people to all sing together.

I’m trying to plan tomorrow’s grocery trip around the possibility that I will not dare to go back for quite some time. And if I *do* go on the 22nd, it will be planned likewise: December 22nd being of tolerable risk does not at all mean January 5th will be.

(I guess if January turns out terribly we might be able to drive out to one of the expensive grocery stores that offers curbside pickup. I still have all of my CERB money (if only just), and they gave it to me for a reason.)


Tags:

#reply via reblog #covid19 #illness tw #Christmas #food mention #101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers

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maryellencarter:

brin-bellway:

maryellencarter:

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behold the EXTREMELY GAY TREE

okay but why is there a Christmas section in early October

is this like Costco where they keep the Christmas-tree aisle up year-round?

Nope, Walmart and Lowe’s have both just put up their Christmas sections already this year. I guess Time broke enough that Halloween has stopped holding the line. :-(

Hang on to your hats, folks, we’re going straight from March to December with *maybe* a short pit stop in August.

(A while back I called this year “strangled in its cradle” [link], and it occurred to me later that it was a particularly evocative/fitting metaphor under the circumstances. 2020: the year deprived of its breath.)


Tags:

#reply via reblog #time #covid19 #illness tw #asphyxiation cw #Christmas