I'm going to level with you, Dear Reader... I'm just not looking forward to Christmas this year. It's been a really bad year on a lot of levels. The puppy needs a procedure that's going to cost an unplanned and wild amount of money. There are human medical issues (not life threatening, just chronic) that need to be dealt with. We've ran into unexpected car issues and the eldest starts college in just enough time that I'm really stressing about the size of her college fund. We've decorated, and cobbled together lists, and will certainly do what we can to make the season bright, but I'm 45, and the kids are 14 and 9. It all seems like an unwanted expense, and that's without the whole right wing political nonsense.
And then there's Krampus.
The stick to Santa's carrot -- literally. A demonic visage of campy horror. An opportunity to put up wildly inappropriate decorations, and to pule in righteousness if someone dares to tell me I'm doing it wrong, the same way that others do at Kwanzaa or Hanukkah or Solstice or Festivus enthusiats.
And it's actually on my genetic heritage, and gives me the opportunity to rattle some rusty chains, wave sticks, drink schnapps and have entirely new traditions, and songs.
Krampus Xmas (Life Is Over)
It's The Most Terror Filled Time Of The Year
A Finding Binding Christmas
Deez Nuts Roasting On A Hellish Fire
Rusty Chains Rock
All I Want For Christmas Is An End To My Richly Deserved Torment
Or wail, or drink, or lay the wood.