Elf on the Shelf: Illuminati Surveillance Gadget

Elf on the Shelf is controversial for sure, but not for the reasons you think.  Sure, it’s got the rouged up cheeks and bright red lips of a daytime hooker on the prowl.  Sure, it’s got the big blue-eyed sideways glance of a dog who has seen too much.  And perhaps it has.  Don’t get me wrong, we did market this little bastard to teach your kids that they have no expectation of privacy anywhere, to teach them that they are at all times under surveillance and will be rewarded or punished accordingly.  It makes my job easier later in life.

We don’t actually care what your kids are doing. After all, we don’t mess with kids – you people do that more than enough for all of us.  No, we care about what you are doing. For twenty-five days of the year we get an extra set of surveillance equipment in your home, which is kind of unimpressive.  But for twenty-four nights, we gain an extra miniature, remote-controlled operative.  One you purchased and placed for us. Each night you take our camera and put it into clever little positions or hiding places for your kids to find the next day.

Then you go to bed and our work begins. We use it to go through your drawers, your calender and fuck up your Candy Crush progress.  Oh yeah, we know all your passwords and lock codes.  That iPhone fingerprint thing has nothing on us.

We sext random people in your contact list, lock the dog outside with a slab of steak and the cat in the bathroom with a litter of mice.  Did you really think that your animals would protect you?  You brought us into the house and they’re dumb enough to think that makes us family.  Family that gives them things you won’t.

Your bottled water gets laced with trace amounts of LSD, your yogurt with ex-lax, and your liquor…goes missing.

Right about now you’re probably feeling up your elf, trying to locate the electronics. Good luck with that.  Maybe you should dismember it?  It’s not like it can put itself back together and watch you sleep every night for the rest of eternity or anything. Right?

The Disturbing Backstory Behind Rudolph

Too many people focus on the story about misfits having something important to give back to society.  Don’t.  It’s all a lie.  Being weird is not some kind of badge of honor.  Being special only makes you annoying.  And having a giant glowing tumor mounted on the end of your snout that whistles of its own accord is going to kill you or get you killed.  It’s only a matter of time.

Ahem.  Everyone misses the obvious in this Christmas classic.  See that little blonde next to our intrepid hero?  None of the other reindeer have a head of hair.  Not even the girls.  Sure, those bitches have obscenely full eyelashes, but still no hair.

So where did this guy get the hair?  That color doesn’t grow on anyone’s head.  Except for the elves.  Female elves to be exact (and Herbie but who cares about him?).  They look so much alike that they’re interchangeable.  An enterprising reindeer could easily kill, scalp and bury an elf then wear her hair as a hat and no one in this land of misery would think twice.  And I thought Gotham was a shit-hole.

Doubt me? Look under that little murderer’s eye. Those are tattooed teardrops, not freckles, and there are three more under his other eye.  The bastard named “Fireball” has killed people. Six people. Reindeer are assholes, and this one is a psychopath.  Delving deeper into what the hell is wrong with him….notice how he has no white fluff in his ears.  All the other reindeer in school have fluff, but none of the adults do.

‘Cept that bitch, Clarice, and her buddy Fireball.  Don’t let those obscene eyelashes fool you into thinking that she’s not guilty of something foul.  Only she and Fireball have human accessories and they’re the only two showing a visual sign of their lost innocence.  He scalped an elf for a head of hair and she stole the victim’s bow…as a souvenir.  It doesn’t matter that the female elves wear hats to work.  They have hair, they wear bows on the weekends.

Natural Born Reindeer, on an unstoppable killing spree.  Where will it end? Will Santa one day be trampled to death?  Don’t look at me like that.  Have you ever actually listened to the lyrics of her song?

There’s always tomorrow
For dreams to come true
Believe in your dreams, come what may.
There’s always tomorrow
With so much to do
And so little time in a day.

We all pretend the rainbow has an end (Ooh…)
And you’ll be there, my friend, some day.
There’s always tomorrow
For dreams to come true
Tomorrow is not far away.

(We all pretend the rainbow has an end
And you’ll be there, my friend, some day)
There’s always tomorrow
For dreams to come true
Tomorrow is not far…a…way.

Sounds like a lovely death threat, if you dream of Rudolph’s bloated corpse washing up on the shores of the Island of Misfit Toys.

Also, the abominable monster has nipples.  You’ll never unsee it now.

A Stocking Stuffer So Awesome You Will Literally Die

I’m trying my hand at click-bait titles today.  PRAISE ME.

Anyway, I was hopping around Amazon for no other reason than to look for terrible awesome gifts to give my anemic, vegan minions and I found a product that simply makes my black little heart soar like a hamster tied to a helium balloon.


I can’t even tell you how much I love this thing.  It’s so gloriously useful.  Have you ever felt like not enough smoke or grill flavor has penetrated your hot dog deeply enough?  Did you just suppress the urge to cringe just now?  I know I did.

And it’s not just about penetration, but also about caramelizing your dog’s juices.  That’s right!  The SLOTDOG is so incredible that it can caramelize something without the presence of sugar!  That dark brown/black stuff on your dog isn’t “burn” or “char,” it’s caramel, bitches!

Did you ever want to squish a log of ground up animal snouts and anuses into your window screen but were afraid that the neighborhood raccoons would do more to your windows than rub their little butts on them?  Now you can get that wonderful sensation right in your kitchen…or bathtub if that’s what makes you happy.

“But how do I get that neat zig-zaggy mustard design on my dog?” you ask. Why with the SLOTDOG’s “kung-fu grip.”  Just carefully squeeze your favorite condiment into perfectly spaced cracks in your dog and you’re the coolest guy at the table. There are two sets of zig-zags so you can prove that the class you took in Advanced Condiment Dispersal wasn’t a total waste of money and time! Except that it was.  You learned nothing if you need the training wheels that this fabulous tool provides.  Miserable cheat.

If you need to up your condiment game, remember that there’s Slawsa®! Wait, it’s not a condiment…it’s a whole new category of food!  So, not soylent either?  Color me disappointed.  You know it has to be good when you have a hard time finding a picture of the actual product on the site and it didn’t get any offers on Shark Tank.  Imagine my dismay when I finally got to the store and got to see it!  Looks like diced sauerkraut and…well, there you go.  Cabbage, sugar, and mustard. I hate sauerkraut for the simple fact that cabbage in any capacity tastes like fermented plague-rat balls.  So, it truly is a unique item to add to your condiment selection! 

Back to the awesome SLOTDOG, I know that you’re looking to buy forty pounds of hot dogs and are worried that you’re going to buy the SLOTDOG and discover that you can’t slot any of your dogs.  You’ll have to stare longingly at it while you grill up and eat an inferior dog.  Well, have no fear, the folks at SLOTDOG have provided a list of compatible brands so you can shop with confidence!  You read that right, there’s an actual list of hot dogs which can be slotted happily.  Someone tested this shit, yo and you will reap the benefits of their hard work.  I heard that they slotted dogs until their fingers bled, that they stood over a grill for days just to make sure that each dog was penetrated by the perfect amount of smoke and grill flavor, that it “caramelized” the edges of the slots perfectly and that they tested every single condiment in every single dog to confirm that the “kung-fu grip” would not release any goodness you added after cooking.

I saved the best news for last.  Like all kitchen gadgets approved by the Illuminati, the SLOTDOG can be used as a sexual aid and body modification tool!  But it can’t be used on real sausages.  It’s a SLOTDOG, not a SLAUTSAGE, Kevin.  Stop asking.

Office Attire for the Savvy Illuminati

You spend 16 hours a day at work, so you should be comfortable.  Whether it offends someone else’s sensibilities doesn’t matter.  They’re not in your skin.  They don’t know what it’s like to look in the mirror and see…that…every day.

Whether you like to attend important meetings in club-wear or your team’s bowling outfit shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own. And that brings me to the dress code outlined in employee manuals.  Total bullshit.  As long as you’re there and pretending to work like a good little minion, I don’t really mind if you duct tape your genitals to your thigh and call it formal wear.  Actually, I think you’d get a raise if you did that, since the last guy who did used three rolls of duct tape and made the annual calendar.

Did you know that some places require women to wear high heels?  Good news for you, ladies, is that they don’t say where.  If there’s no policy in place against hats that’s a good, if not mundane, place to park it.  On the other hand, if you’ve got a boss who gets a little handsy, you can always tape it to the crotch of your pants, heel out.  Superglue some spikes to that and you’ve got a statement on sexual harassment.  Not that I would know anything about that.  I’ve never harassed anyone, no matter what any of these overly sensitive, paranoid men in my office think.  They were asking for it.  You know, to…uh..unwind.  It’s the whole reason behind No-Pants Wednesday.

But again, that’s a dress code thing, isn’t it?  Too late.  It’s mandatory.

Cross-training is Devil’s Work

Not the exercise, we’ve already covered how horrible exercise that is.  No, I’m talking about cross-training at work.

It’s annoying and accomplishes nothing.  Look, when I take an intern who knows nothing about feeding The Wolverpus and have him feed The Wolverpus, do you know what happens?  Right.  Chewed beyond recognition. All that time I invested in teaching him how to re-arrange my collection of jarred human brains was wasted.

So, if your boss wants you to learn a new position, run like hell.  Not because you’re going to get stuck feeding some hypersexual man-platypus-wolverine hybrid but because you’ll now be responsible for doing twice the work at half the price. They won’t tell you that. Your employer is dishonest with you. I’m the only one you can trust for career advice and you know it.

Every new job you learn under the guise of advancement or “helping out” is a job you’re going to be stuck doing when that person leaves. Just keep in mind that you can’t let your employer know that you’re onto him. You must engage in stealth career stagnation.  This means that you learn other jobs, but you give no indication that you know them.  This protects you from horrible things like being called a “hard worker” or “conscientious employee.”

But aren’t those good things, you ask?  Fuck no.  These are the worst things any boss can say about their employee.  That means that they’ve found a way to pull your very life-blood from your anus. Keep your life-blood where it belongs.

At the same time, you can’t seem too useless.  Occasionally perform a task that your boss doesn’t know you know and then when he tries to put you on it again, act like you’ve never done it before.  It doesn’t matter how much detail he throws at you to jog your memory about the last time you did it.  Never happened.

Never happened.

Now your boss is crazy and you’ve somehow come out looking like an unreliable savant who can only be relied upon to work outside your job description when it doesn’t matter at all.

Illuminati Tips for Living Forever

I’m honestly really tired of other sites giving you all these healthy living tips that were not sanctioned by my organization.  They should honestly know better considering that I’m the one to determine the drug ratios in their water supply.  Well, they don’t necessarily know about that.  Especially what I’ve done to their bottled water.  They should know better anyway.

Water Causes Uncontrollable Leakage

Your body is about 60% water. Even one little glass can change that to 61%, at which point you should worry. Your body will panic and attempt to get rid of the excess. It’ll start with your eyes and nose and then it comes out your pores. Eventually, you’re just peeing constantly.

Think about this.  I mean really think.  We all know someone suffering the symptoms. That woman in your office who always has a bottle of water with her? The one who cries at the drop of a hat? Who sweats uncontrollably? Who has to piss every twenty minutes? I know she tells you that it’s menopause…it’s not. She’s over-hydrated. She’s literally killing herself. You’ve got to stop her. Take all her water. Take it then return it to the ocean.

Stop Rehearsing Death

Sleep is an overrated concept.  Not only do you end up flat on your back, vulnerable to assassination, for 7-14 hours, but you end up missing important things all day or night.  As an adult, you’ve come to appreciate bedtime and the occasional afternoon nap, unaware of the potential dangers.  And I’m not just talking about the assassins:  sleep is just a death rehearsal and the older you get, the closer you are to the big show.  That’s why you seem to need more as you get older.  It’s your body telling you that the time is nigh.  So rather than rehearsing death more as you get older, rehearse it less.  Give Death the most offensive hand gesture you know and commit to sleeping half as much.

So, if you sleep eight hours a night, dial that back to four.  At first, it may feel like you’re already starting to die, what with the aching joints, the inability to think straight and falling asleep in random places.  That’s just your body telling you that you’ve discovered the secret to immortality. After a few months, it will realize that this is a battle that you’re going to win and will stop all that nonsense.  You’ll be happier, more energetic and the hallucinations are fantastic.

Exercise is Dangerous

No one actually enjoys exercise, but it’s the “in” thing to say you love it, so those sheep just go with it. The masses get excited over things like spin class  – stationary bike riding in a group.  Fact is that exercise makes us all miserable. Doing it, planning it, even thinking about it…ugh. I can’t even stand it. Not only does the mere thought of exercise illicit anxiety in most of the population, it’s also dangerous. In 2012, almost half a million people were injured while exercising. So stop stressing over having washboard abs.  You were never going to have them anyway.

Junk Food Is Part of a Balanced Diet

It’s no doubt that we need to take in a certain amount of vitamins and minerals, lest we waste away. What nutritionists won’t tell you is that the human digestion system has evolved to a point where it actually requires what experts call “junk food.” Your body doesn’t crave chips or brownies for no reason. It knows something you don’t. Maybe you’re lacking gooey goodness #5 or that perfect balance of oil and chip sawdust which greases the rusty wheel in your brain.

Truth is that people who diet are slow and gross.  They amble around like the walking dead because they are slowly dying of nutrient deprivation.  Their refusal to acknowledge that cocoa nibs, oil-drenched anything, and salty-sweet goodness are part of a balanced diet will be their undoing.  In the meantime, you can operate like a gazelle by grabbing your emergency stash of cookies and tearing into that bitch like a shark with an injured baby seal.

Top 5 Illuminati Productivity Tips

There are a lot of books and websites out there giving you tips on how to be productive. Give those assholes two stiff middle fingers and only pay attention to my advice.

To Do Lists Can’t Control You

Have you seen these things? They’re amazing. You write down everything that needs to be done and then…I don’t know…you tell someone else to do it? That’s what I do. But I understand that not everyone has the ability to delegate an entire workday, so you should do what my peons do.

First up, don’t listen to other sites that tell you to do all the easy things first, or tell you to do one hard thing and a bunch of easy things. That wastes valuable time by doing things like reviewing the whole list and triaging by difficulty. Ugh. Animals. And then the list is dictating your entire day to you before you’ve even started. Besides, your brain love surprises, so give it what it wants. Just close your eyes and point to an item on your list, then do it. After, if you feel like it, point to another item and do that, too. Don’t like what you pointed to? Try again. But no more than like, three times, otherwise you’re ruining your productivity.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: But what about deadlines? Fuck deadlines. So what if you forget the little things, like picking up the kids at school. They’ll figure out a way to get home on their own. They’re a lot smarter than they let on. Got an important deadline? It’s called a “forced extension.” That’s when you don’t bother to ask for additional time, you demand it by missing the deadline. Besides, if it’s that important, someone else will do it for you.

Alternatively, if you have a boss who places emphasis on actually making your goals, then your list will need to have due dates which you will then use to filter the list so you can do your random selection with relative ease. This, unfortunately, affects your ability to be productive, so you might want to think about getting a new boss.

Email is Your Enemy

Did you know that average office worker gets about 120 emails a day? No one has time to deal with all that! So, right when you get into the office, deal with the morning influx using the following procedure:

  • Delete every third email. These were somehow lost by the mail server. Looks like IT has a little problem to troubleshoot.
  • Reply to every other email with “Looks great, [receipient name].” Remember to use the recipient’s name, moron.
  • Reply to the remaining emails with “I think there are some areas that need improvement. Partner with [random co-worker’s name] and get back to me with solutions.”

Don’t bother reading any of them before deciding what to do. It’s really not worth it.

That wraps up the morning influx. For the rest of the day, you’ll need to use the Illuminati Magic Eye Ball, on sale for only $666.69. You’ll get amazing email response templates like:

  • This isn’t my problem, Eric.  Fucking deal with it.
  • Pull your head out of your ass and do your job.
  • If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were looking to be fired.
  • This is why Sharon got that promotion instead of you.
  • This is why you got that demotion instead of Sharon.
  • Paycuts are coming!
  • Are you wearing the same shirt as yesterday?
  • I didn’t tell you so I could do it myself.

You can use a regular Magic 8 Ball instead, but you’ll need to get a bit creative in wording your responses unless you want to get hauled off to the funny farm. And you lose the ability to be awesome.

Meetings Should Always Run Over

Other places will tell you that meetings need to have time limits. I call bullshit. The best meetings are the ones that organically come to a close. About 50% of meetings are just socializing. So, if you only set aside one hour, then you’ve got 30 minutes to cram stuff into or risk having to schedule another meeting to finish everything. That’s unrealistic and unproductive. Additionally, agendas are awful. Someone has to waste time writing one up and then some douche-lord has to distribute the agenda and incessantly keep people on track. See how much time is wasted trying to control things?

Take it from me: The most productive meetings are mine. I start by commandeering a conference room and throwing out anyone who may already be in there. I prefer the one on the 42nd floor since the air conditioning control for the whole floor is in there so you can be assured that the room is always just the right temp – no matter how crowded it gets. An added bonus is that if the room is already occupied, then there are usually pastry and coffee left behind. Yum! Then I write down three things we need to accomplish on the big whiteboard (not an agenda) and make the announcement that there’s a meeting in 30 seconds. If you have properly intimidated your staff, like I have, they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to attend.

And that’s important. You want them anxious to get back to what they had to leave half-done. Once everyone gets there, tell them that no one leaves the room until the things on the board are accomplished. Then sit by the door to make sure no one leaves until the meeting is over. I recommend Angry Birds or Fruit Ninja to pass the time. All this guarantees that meetings that normally last an hour will only take 20 minutes and no one will be in the mood for chit-chat. Of course, if the meeting runs longer than that, then it needed to.

Distractions Don’t Really Distract

They all say to limit your distractions. I can’t even. Distractions refresh your brain! How many times have you seen a TV character have an epiphany? They almost never have it when actually working on the problem. Hell, the whole concept of “sleeping on it” is just recommending that you distract your brain for a few hours. Anything that gets you thinking about something else for a few minutes…or hours…isn’t bad at all.

So, you’ll find the most productive people are sitting at their computers watching cat videos instead of working because when they start working again, they’ll solve problems at least five times faster than before. Certainly more than the person watching someone watch cat videos. Why? Not enough distraction. See, if you’re watching someone watch cat videos, you’re thinking about their productivity, which makes you think about yours, which automatically makes you less productive. Jeez, you’d be better off reorganizing your to-do list by difficulty and coming up a with a gameplan of which to pick and how many to pick each day for the rest of your life.

Reading About Productivity Is Stupid

The self-help market is astoundingly large. Everyone wants to be a better person, but would rather read about how instead of actually doing it. How much time have you spent reading about how to be productive and how much more productive are you for it? Be honest. You haven’t made considerable improvements. Sure, you took one or two tips, but we both know that it lasted a month and then you were back to getting nothing done. But I’m sure that every time you see a productivity article you can’t help but click on it. Depending on how much of this shit you’ve tried to feed your brain, you’ve probably read all the tips anyway. They’re just regurgitating each other’s regurgitation now. So how productive is it to read about becoming more productive. None at all.

Glad I wasted your time.


Your Facebook Statuses Make You A Shitty Hire

We get a lot of applications for employment here.  It’s a very cushy job.  You don’t even have to have a sense of morality.  So, I feel the need to tell you that we pre-screen applications based on your Facebook behavior.  We have a whole department dedicated to it.  I told them to forward me a list of behavior they look for and whether or not we’re interested. I don’t exactly know why and they offered no explanation beyond a shrug.  I know who’s getting urine in their coffee tomorrow!

The “Good Christian” Self-Complimenter

You’re actually a terrible person who tries very hard to convince others that you’re a good person.  You use the bible as a shield against anyone who calls you on your shit.  Remember, a Good Christian doesn’t need to advertise.  You also tend to act like you’re better than everyone else, which would be fine but you have no foundation for it except a book.  You need to back your shit up with actual results.

Strong Women Cry When Alone

You’re a raging bitch who frequently gets verbally (and sometimes physically) abusive with those around you.  They know you’re a raging bitch and have had enough of it.  So you post stuff like this so they think that you are capable of being sad or hurt. Truth is that the only thing that hurts you is losing your punching bags.  Welcome to round two of the screening process.

Strong, Independent Woman

If you ever sat down and looked at your life, you’d notice that you’re honestly never without a man.  They’re like perpetual band-aids.  I’m not talking about being in a series of healthy relationships.  I mean, you absolutely cannot function alone and will settle for anything that will have you. Whether the man in your life is your son, cousin, husband, neighbor’s husband, brother or some guy you met on a dating app, it doesn’t even matter.  You will hop from one man to the next in quick succession.  You’re not always in a relationship with them either!  Sometimes, you’ve found, you can con a guy into doing guy things for you without even the promise of sex. And when you’re in a dry spell, you whine at your female friends until they fix their problems for you or let you borrow their significant others for your guy things.

We actually don’t need anyone like you, so don’t come looking here for work.  Our guys have enough to do without you ruining their productivity by making them do your job too. Besides, they’re already doing my job.


You have a hard time keeping a girlfriend and no one can figure out how you keep getting them to begin with.  Your breakup statuses are insanely amusing, littered with insults like “slut” and “whore.”  Insults which you gladly sling at any woman who dares defend herself or another woman to you.  You also try to control the other women in your life, going as far as to tell them what they wear, who they date and going off into a rage when they act like actual human beings and not your personal property.

We actually have no place for you here.  We’ve evolved.  The last thing I need is to find you duct-taped under an overpass – not working – because you called a woman a slut for wearing a three-piece suit.  Or the smell.  We don’t need the smell.  I mean, basic hygiene is not gay so don’t just let the water cascade over you in the shower, scrub your junk like a man.

Loving Your Children

We get it.  You incubated a parasite for nine months and shot it out between your thighs. You’re kind of attached to it.  It also makes you a huge liability.  Those things incubate the plague, they fuck up everything nice and they ensure that your priorities will always be elsewhere.  Breeding is only a marketable skill for certain departments and we’re a bit overstocked at the moment.

Loving Your Pets

You spend far too much time talking about and posting pictures of your pets.  I can’t even imagine hiring someone like you when we have a whole internet of people doing exactly that for free.

That being said, keep it up.  Watching baby animals fall asleep is literally my entire workday on Fridays.

Non-Stop Selfies

You really like the way you look, and you especially love to hear anything that affirms this opinion. You likely post the “I’m ugly!” selfies then masturbate to the compliments.  You’re seriously high maintenance and most of your Facebook friends have actually blocked your status updates.  They’ll stay friends with you in case something important comes up, but like in real life, they pretty much avoid interacting with you.

Your only marketable skill is taking a picture of yourself, which literally no one actually needs.  Eventually, you will stop being pretty and if it doesn’t happen naturally with time, I will personally come to your house and wrinkle the ever-loving shit out of your face.  Your friends will unblock you at this point, since watching deluded ugly people take selfies in the hope of getting lots of genuine compliments is like watching a fifty-car pileup.

Consistent Vaguebooking

You honestly believe that creating a false sense of drama ferrets out who your real friends are.  Truth is that you’re a self-important jackass.  No one actually cares and the people who fall for this shit more than three times are just bored.  Everyone else just rolls their eyes and scrolls past because videos of making spinach cups are infinitely more entertaining than whatever manufactured drama you’ve come up with.  And plot-twisting those posts isn’t going to endear you to anyone or make anyone but you laugh.

We have actual people who are already quite talented at annoying others.  They understand plot structure, twists, and timing.  They know when to be vague and overly dramatic.  You do not.  You have literally one trick and you wore it out two days before you were born.  If on the other hand, you would like to jump through the same hoop for twelve hours a day, I’m sure we can find a place for you.

Black Friday Illuminati Drinking Game

Black Friday might be a huge shopping day for you, or maybe you stay in.  For us? We sit back and watch society devolve all on its own.  It’s the only day where we shut down our main office and hold viewing parties for bad behavior that you can’t even blame on us. Okay, that’s not true.  We have a hand in those “deals” that are advertised and the hours that the stores stay open, but that’s it, I swear.  The rest of the nightmare is all yours, guys.

Like I said, we have viewing parties.  We open up a massive part of the Snowflake Web to our employees and allow them to sign up to stream specific feeds.  This year, thanks to my amazing abilities to impale the lesser Geek-dom on basketballs, I have secured the feed for one of the largest department stores in the country. If anyone recalls the viewing parties from prior years, the most choice feeds were held back for “research purposes.”  My superior sleuthing skills, coupled with my aforementioned impaling abilities uncovered a conspiracy within a conspiracy.  There was no “research” going on!  They were hoarding the footage in the sub-basement and laughing their asses off at those of us stuck with the boring stuff.  And they weren’t even watching it – they were watching us watching the monotony of the local K-Mart.

So, in celebration of guaranteed entertainment, I have started a drinking game.  Play along at home if you’ve got access to the Snowflake Web.

You shall drink if:

  • Someone is blasting Christmas music on their cellphone, despite the store also playing Christmas music at the same time.
  • Someone is Skyping while wandering around without regard to nearby shoppers.
  • A customer sends a store employee into a stock room to find something and then knocks on the door every ten seconds to see if the employee found it yet.
  • A store employee looks like they might just slit their wrists right at the register.
  • A customer parks a triple stroller right in the middle of an intersection between several busy walkways and effectively blocks all traffic.  The reason matters not.
  • The store plays the same song three times in a row, even if the song is by different artists.
  • Someone gets huffy at the register despite having just arrived and being next in line.
  • A customer gets angry because the prices don’t match their sales flyer from last year’s Black Friday.
  • A customer gets angry because the store doesn’t carry a brand that ceased to exist fifteen years ago.
  • An in-store traffic jam causes an elderly woman to launch into a full-blown temper tantrum.
  • A toddler has a meltdown because someone’s stellar parenting skills have kept that kid awake for the past 16 hours.  Bonus drink if the same stellar parent yells at the kid for having a meltdown.
  • A customer completely destroys a table of folded anything. Shirts, towels, pants.  It doesn’t even matter.  It was folded nicely before they opened and now it’s a volcano of crap.
  • A customer drags an employee around for longer than 15 minutes asking, “How much is this?”  for just about everything in sight.  Additional bonus drinks for every 30 minutes that this continues.
  • Someone threatens to throw a trash can through the window of a store whose doors are already unlocked and open.
  • Citing the need to “check and make sure everything is there,” a customer removes the product from each box in a display…and then decides not to purchase any of it.

There’s no drinking for actual violence.  You’d black out before an hour into the viewing party.  Also, I’m making Virgin Heart guacamole.  It’s a new recipe so feedback is welcome.

Illuminati Christmas

Jens over at FreeDumb of Expression brought up some good points regarding Santa, so I decided that it’s time I reveal Christmas for what it is: an Illuminati plot to make a good part of your year completely unbearable.  Or at least to those who celebrate Christmas.  Don’t worry, we’re going after Hanukkah next.

You were probably already aware of this since they start playing Christmas music before Halloween and you don’t finish paying off your Christmas purchases until Christmas five years later.  My idea by the way, and you’re welcome.  So, now that Christmas is over, I thought I’d let you in on some well-known Illuminati secrets regarding this plight.  It won’t truly matter since by next year you’ll be too busy buying gifts for your shiftless relatives.

One of the most iconic symbols of the holiday is Santa.  Did you realize that his name is an anagram for Satan?  Bet you did.  Most kids figure that out in the third grade.  Let’s talk about his appearance for a moment.  That rosy tinge on his cheeks ain’t makeup, that’s a Rosacea blush caused by consuming too much alcohol.  And the suit?  It’s a blend of the color of your checkbook after a successful Christmas and pimp-tastic fur lining.  Makes you wonder if that sack of toys is meant for delivery or keeping his hos elves in line.  You’ll never really know.  And his beard is intended to mask his appearance as well as any robber would.  Did you ever wonder why your Benz was down a tank of gas on Christmas day?  Why drive a sleigh when you can bald the tires on an expensive car.

In addition to that, the truth that Santa teaches goes well beyond anything your kids are taught in school.  What better than an omnipotent presence who supposedly watches you all the time to teach your kids that being “nice” and listening to your parents is only contingent on whether or not someone is looking over your shoulder.  Granted, you could say that telling your kids that someone is ALWAYS watching will keep them in-line…but since you don’t say that all year long, since they get gifts regardless of their behavior, and since they don’t care about something eight months away…your threats fall on deaf ears.  But go ahead and keep teaching them that they can do whatever they want when no one is looking and rest assured that when they know that Santa isn’t looking they’ll haul your aged ass off into a crap nursing home and let you rock it out to a Charlie Brown Christmas while eating your designated slice of week old SPAM.

But that’s not all.  Aren’t you always teaching your kids to stay away from strangers?  And what do you freaks do?  Plop your child’s but on the lap of a perfect stranger – one whose lips haven’t left a bottle since 1945, probably hasn’t passed any kind of background check and you couldn’t identify in a court of law because his face is obscured by a cotton beard.  Good job guys.  Way to teach your kids that it’s okay to sit on a creepy stranger’s lap.  Not just any stranger either, but Santa’s army of Rugrat Molesting Mall Santas.

Oh, and the lies you tell – and we’re actually really proud of you for this – you actually go out of your way to undermine your child’s trust.  You make them believe the unbelievable only hit their little dreams with a sledgehammer later.  Build them up…knock them down…you do realize that even the CIA isn’t cruel enough to do it in that order.  Are you creating fully-functioning adults or are you creating dysfunctional sociopaths?  You decide.  But we do so get a kick out of the lengths you’ll go to get them to believe.  Eight flying reindeer?  You do realize that the only way those tick infested overgrown rats off the ground is to feed them LSD.  Which is actually pretty funny to watch.  But no, they don’t really fly.  But they certainly think they do.  And when your little ankle-biters dare to inquire as to how Santa makes it around the world in one night…that bit about the super-sonic Santa gets my goat every time.  How much further are you going to fray before you realize that you’ve lost your freaking mind?

A lot further as it turns out, since once your kids find out the truth and go through the mourning process for a guy who couldn’t possibly exist you FORCE THEM to keep it a secret from friends who don’t know and younger siblings.  And when they tell?  They get punished!  Freaking awesome.  Makes me want to make you honorary members of my organization.  But that won’t happen, you’ll have to do far better than that to get a foot in my door.

But Christmas doesn’t end with the jolly ole pedophile.  No…there’s the retail end.  Every year we sink ad money into the system so you’ll go further under in your checkbook.  And so far it’s working.  Don’t worry about this little recession thing, you’ll keep spending what you don’t have regardless.  And what better to truly kick off the holiday spending season than a day that shares its name with hangings, massacres, natural disasters, and financial crises?  BLACK FRIDAY.  Oh, yes we did.  You people line up outside the stores before the break of day, sometimes sleeping there overnight, to catch 20% off lighted pen trinkets for stocking stuffers.  Yes, that’s a whole $0.30 off the everyday low price.  And you push and shove gimpy old ladies with social security checks in hand to get your little trinkets.  You are truly a piece of work.

But it’s all in the name of Good Will and Peace on Earth.  At least until the stores open.

May Santa Bless You One and All.