Thursday, December 12, 2013

Christmas: It's All Bout Family. Functional Or Not!

We are taint deep into the Christmas season and I haven't even had a chance to run out and pick up seven swans a swimming for my true love.  Guess I better get off the schnide.  Or even better, I think I'll just stick with the nine ladies lap dancing.  Huh?  That's not how it goes?  Yeah, well my way makes the song a whole lot fukkin' better.  I'd just skip all the friggin' birds (did everyone get feathery fowl for Christmas back then, fachrissake?) and replace them with things like tubas, rickshaws and boobs a bouncing!  Seriously... I know I have asked this before... but what kind of true love gets somebody a couple of turtle doves and a six pack of geese shittin' out eggs?  If it was real true love, you'd be gettin' shit like an XBox One, Patriots season tickets and a belt buckle bottle opener.

Christmas really is a strange time of year for me.  I mean, I struggle with the whole notion of the immaculate conception, an understanding Joseph (who, if that happened these days, would be on Maury Povich doing the paternity test dance) and three camel jockeys from Asia following a star to a small town in Israel just to give the kid some baby oil and dried sap.  And I don't know how the dots got connected to a fat elf in a red suit bringing toy trains and crying dolls to boys and girls.  But then again, I guess that's being sacrilege.

I ain't sacrilege.  I love Christmas.  I love the togetherness that the season brings.  I love giving gifts and I really love getting gifts.  I love plugging in a string of lights to find out that they ALL work.  I love getting photo cards in the mail of friends' kids that I haven't seen since the days of coming to cookouts in carseats.  How are they in fukkin' college now?  I didn't know they made carseats that big.  I love "Merry Christmas Bedford Falls!", "You'll shoot yer eye out."  and "The shitter's full."   I love the fat glutton Ghost of Christmas Present - dude can eat!  But the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come makes me pee a little bit.  I dig the Miser Brothers and Yukon's Bumble.  I even like that little bitch on 34th Street.

And most of all, I love listening to the songs.  I love the carols about the bright star, virgin birth and holy night and I love the silly songs about rooftops and reindeer and Italian donkeys.  Yep, even the Italian donkey.  And I really love the rock and roll Christmas songs about Christmas Wrapping and Father Christmas gettin' robbed by the Kinks.  But the best songs to  me are the songs about family.  Whether it be Johnny Cash singing That Christmasy Feeling or The Oak Ridge Boys "Thank God For Kids" or Bryan Adams singing "Something About Christmas Time," these are the songs to which we can all relate.  Unless of course you are a tight ass who is offended by the C-word.

There seems to be a run these days on Christmas songs about dysfunctional families and for some reason, I think I love them best!  This trend, I think, started when Elmo and Patsy sang about Grandpa and Cousin Mel drinking beers and their Grandma stumbling home cocked on eggnog only to get run over by a wayward Blitzen.  The dysfunctional holiday then gathered some steam with Bob Rivers' Twelve Pains of Christmas ("She's a witch.  I hate her").  This leads me to the two songs that are now sitting second and third on my list of favorite holiday tunes this year (A Boob Job For Christmas will forever be number 1, people).

How do you not spend the rest of the day with this song stuck in your head?  Robert Earl Keene has his thumb on the pulse of fukked up families and puts it all to music in Merry Christmas From The Family.

Favorite verse:

Carve the turkey, put the ball game on.  

Make Bloody Mary's cuz we all want one.  
Send somebody to the Stop 'n Go.  
We need some celery and a can of fake snow.  
A bag of lemons and some Diet Sprites.  
A box of tampons and some Salem Lights.  
Hallelujah, everybody say cheese!


And then there is this song by one of my favorite bands of all time.  The Dropkicks are fast approaching Skynyrd status in my book and they have cut this gem of a holiday tune.

Favorite verse:
My Mom likes to cook, push our buttons and prod.  
My brother just brought home another big broad.  
The eye rolls and whispers come loud from the kitchen.
I'd come home more often if they'd only quit bitchin'.
My dad, on the other hand's a selfish old sod.  
Drinks whisky alone with my miserable dog, 
who won't run or fetch and he couldn't care less.  
He defiled by teddy bear and left me the mess."


Hope you enjoyed!!!

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