Fuck you! I was here all day! Don’t try to cover up your laziness by claiming you made an effort when we all know you couldn’t be bothered to do your FUCKING JOB!
(pant, pant)
Yeah, really. I think it ain’t to controversial to call Jesus “him” or “he”. As was mentioned in the unintentional punch-lines thread, he was circumcised, and that’s a pretty big tip off.
Also, my mini-rant:
Dear MIL:
Practical items, such as dryer balls, bath towels, and eye drops, are things that we will purchase as needed, and therefore tend not to make the best gifts. This can be tricky, though, as the flashlight was nice. Also, it is possible to return items withOUT the price tag still attached. I don’t need to know how much you spent on me. I don’t care, as long as you find a halfway decent gift.
I mean, one or two price tags I can understand. But she leaves them on every single gift I’ve ever received from her (she tends to leave them on everybody’s gifts, not just me).
At least I didn’t get any Merry Birthday gifts this year- today, the 27th, being my birthday, I usually get a few.
? What? We returned something non-Christmas-related yesterday. We weren’t going to return it, but there wasn’t much line at all.
I haven’t received anything for Xmas for years now. The last presents I got were a cheap leather jacket that was way too small for me and a bunch of those cologne sample tubes they hand out at the store. The year before that my dad thought I needed the world’s cheapest katana, which was apparently sharpened by dragging it behind a car on the highway.
My parents have grandkids now, and they are the focus of Xmas. I get a phone call.
Consider yourself lucky. At least you get a phone call. 
I told myself I wanted my sister to have a baby so there’d be no more pressure on the rest of us. I didn’t realize that what it would mean is that the family makes all their plans for holidays around the grandbabies; if I’m lucky, I’ll get a call or an email to tell me where and when to show up.
I have to admit–I got a phone call, too.
Now I anticipate getting actual gifts this weekend–we’re all meeting at my brother’s house this weekend, because this year was the “other grandparents” turn to have the grandbabies.
But it bugged me a little when my aunt asked me what I got from people other than her–nothing, yet. I’m not mad because I anticipate getting stuff later.
(I did have to laugh at my dad–this year the “kids” slept in more than last year. Well, in fairness, this year’s kids are his sixty-ish wife’s siblings. Last year’s kids were almost 2 and almost 4. Also, the wife’s siblings come from more westward timezones (and one of them spent Saturday night at an airport). The grandbabies live in the east. )
December 25th was my B-day. The only gift I got from anyone on that day was from Sam in the convenience store, who didn’t charge me for the cup of coffee I bought that day.
Happy Belated Birthday, Annie. My grandfather was born on the 24th, my father on the 21st. I have some idea how annoying it is to have your birthday continually eclipsed.
I’m in Canada, where Boxing Day sales are the Canuck version of Black Friday.
Hah! You slay me!
(The “snip” is particularly appropriate this time around, too. 
)
Happy Birthday, all you Christmas Babies! One cycle later, and I would have been joining you (born four weeks before Christmas).
Okay, I wasn’t in any danger of starving, but walking into the family Christmas Eve celebration after work and realizing the vultures had cleaned out all the snacks didn’t make me happy. I think next year we’ll have to make some other arrangements.
To EA Games: When you don’t include the serial number with the product, thereby leaving me unable to install the program, it really sucks that you want me to give you $10 (and wait a month) to get a replacement number. Yes, I understand why it’s done that way, but your way of handling it penalizes the legitimate customer. So screw you, too, for making me stand in the return lines to exchange the damn thing just so my daughter could actually use her Christmas gift before Martin Luther King Jr. Day. And to WalMart, just what is this policy that you can’t open the product I am exchanging to ensure that the serial number is enclosed with the new game?
To my oldest brother: So, the reason you did not show up for Christmas is that one of our sisters mistakenly thought you were angry at her when you did not show up at Thanksgiving and just that possibility of a misunderstanding made you so angry that you decided you would not come to the family gathering at Christmas. Really, if you prefer to have quiet holidays at home with your children and grandchildren, just say so. Don’t manufacture drama just to try to upset everyone else. We’ll be fine, honestly; in fact, I heard a few brave souls venture that they found the party much more entertaining without the presence of your family. I know you’re an asshole, which you proudly and loudly claim at every opportunity, but try to show some consideration for the ones who do care that we all gather together to celebrate as a family.
Thanks for everyone’s condolences/sympathies. They are truly appreciated.
The REAL pit I had intended to make (I lost momentum after typing the first sentence) was directed toward myself.
I had just gotten done seeing a movie with my boyfriend. We were heading to his house to pick up my presents, after which we planned to go back to my place, drink some wine and watch another movie.
I got the call right before we turned onto boyfriend’s street. My mom said, “MomMom’s in the hospital, she’s not going to make it through the night, come here if you want to say your final goodbyes.” This was half a shock, half not really – she had leukemia last year and was in remission. Lately she’d been “not feeling well” which turned into “too weak to walk” so was admitted to the hospital about a week beforehard. We knew she wasn’t going to be with us for much longer, but we all expected her to come home one more time.
It was not meant to be. Her organs started failing.
The pit: I knew it was bad, but didn’t realize it was a GET HERE RIGHT NOW type of situation. We stopped at the boyfriend’s house to get the presents since we were right there anyway, and as it was now 9pm and neither of us had eaten all day, we stopped to get sandwiches at wawa (local convenience store/ deli type place), before heading to the hospital.
Bad move.
On the way to the hotpial, my mother kept calling me, more frantic easy time. We got lost.
More frantic phone calls. “They’re taking her off life support in 20 minutes.” We were 10 minutes away.
Five minutes later she called again. “Just go home.”
She passed before they even pulled the plug.
If I had only know that stupid sandwhich was going to cost me seeing her face one last time…
Oh well. Maybe it’s for the best. My last memory of her is her getting up off the couch to give me a kiss goodbye the last time I stopped over, instead of her unconscious and hooked up to a bunch of machines.
Yeah. It’s better that way.
I know it’s hard, but it really is better that way. I’m glad I didn’t make it up to Pittsburgh in time to see my grandfather - he wasn’t conscious, he wouldn’t have known me, he was on all the tubes. I remember him watching us open presents at Christmas instead.