Home for the Holiday Hell

I don’t know where you live, but around here, winter only means two good things: presents and New Year's. Everything else about this time of year sucks, especially the truly awkward conversations with your parents about how “classes” are going (what the fuck are classes anyway?), where you have to make up some cheery little lie instead of admitting that you went to something called “orientation,” then blacked out for 14 weeks, only to wake up next to she-wolf, slam some whiskey, show up late for the final, and barely squeeze a C out of Communications 101.

But even before the forced situations with the relatives, you’ve got headaches like driving 3.5 miles an hour on the highway because some douchebag in a Caprice is scared that an eighth of an inch of snow accumulated over a week's time is going to send him careening through the guard rail at the tap of the gas. Then, after a 30-mile, 5-hour drive, you get to spend an entire week with the family, an occasion highlighted by new sweaters from grandma and a “care package” from the mom and dad. Added bonuses include: sleeping in your old bed that is almost big enough to contain the beer gut you grew as long as the rest of your body sleeps on the floor, and your parents asking you to “come home at a decent hour.” (Never try and tell them that 9am the next day is decent, because at 2am you were getting indecent with the hottie down the street.)

Another joy of the holidays at home is alcohol withdrawal. If you've ever gotten so desperate that you had to combine Listerine, eggnog, and lighter fluid just to try and manage a buzz, don't worry, you're not alone. Extra credit if they have to pump your stomach more than once over winter break.

Thankfully, the holidays mean some of your buddies might be around. That way you’ll manage to find a New Year’s party where you can get hammered enough to redecorate your buddy's room on accident (got to stop eating White Castle before drinking), and find some slut your younger sibling went to high school with and spread a little holiday cheer (don’t worry, “she said she was 18” always holds up in court). The problem is, once New Year’s is over, you’re left with a new STD, a huge hangover, and three more months of winter hell to survive.

Luckily for you, there are ways to combat the holy hell of holidays; just do what I do:

I, for one, have an extraordinarily horny girlfriend (no, she’s not inflatable like yours) and do not find this to be difficult at all. For those of you slightly more challenged length, girth, and beauty wise, I suggest this theory: masturbating three times a day over Christmas break counts as getting laid to your friends back at college if you have the balls to make ‘em believe you. Note: Hometown fatties and the chick who never graduated because she didn’t have time for school after her 2^nd kid are better left out of this quest.

And by this I mean to of course, knock down every godforsaken snowman every little kid has made in your entire town. Bonus points if you do it right as they finish putting that stupid carrot nose on, in front of them, with your car.

At first this sounds mean, but if you let them go through life thinking they can build their own imaginary friends, then you are letting the geeky emotional kids that play video games and cry in their sleep perpetuate the earth—and I will not stand for it. Besides, if you accidentally hit a kid in the process, that’s one less fucker to grow up and compete for the prime pussy in #1.

3. Rub it in.

The fact that you celebrate Christmas means that you get presents, and everyone else gets their holiday run over by a shit-ton of reindeer and a fat guy wearing red. I know you celebrate Christmas, because they don’t teach Jews to read.

So the next time you see a yarmulke, point, laugh, and then use whatever badass present they didn’t get to make them feel worthless, because after all, that’s the Christmas spirit. Also, remember to ignore any of these rules that conflict with #1… if you see a hot curly-haired Jewish chick, then damnit, find a dreidel and some lube fast. Bonus points for performing a sex act that includes a snowman. Or a menorah for that matter.

Remember the kids you went to high school with that always wanted to be a part of your group? Invite them to any and all parties you throw over the holiday break, because nothing’s better than watching idiots get too drunk to talk or walk.

Once they are good and loaded, do what college kids do best: borrow money. The key is to borrow small amounts—no more than 10 or 15 bucks—but to find as many of these sorry individuals as possible, and give them an inkling that through charity, they can buy a friend. You may go back to college with enough money to refill the kegerator, and you won’t see any of these people for months. (Once this article is up, I’m going to have about 12 people remember about a few “small bills” I may owe them.) So, on that note…

Seriously, $5 is a small price to pay for what I’ll give you: a sheet of stickers that reads, “Fuck off bell-ringer, I already gave $1000 to charity this year.” Plus, once girls have this amazing, and totally believable proof of how charitable and rich you are, you’ll be fighting the pussy off with a bat. And because this contributes so nicely to #1 above, you’ll really be killing several birds with one stone… not to mention buying me a nice holiday buzz. I’ve got plenty of eggnog, but I’m running out of lighter fluid.

If you can’t get shit-faced and cause some serious destruction, then get laid and enjoy yourself, it wouldn’t really be a holiday would it? So remember, drive too fast to get home, offend everyone who won’t lend you money, and screw anything that moves and doesn’t make you want to bathe in Lysol. Also, if you can combine these tips and get laid while driving, forcing you to run a slow moving Caprice off the road and into some poor little asswipe Jewish kid’s snowman, I’ll send you “I donated” stickers for free.