The Week In Review

Don't fuck with me. I have a Christmas knife.

By now, those of you who celebrate Christmas will have breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have gone through the holiday, but happy to see it (and all the associated stress) safely in the past. I, on the other hand, have added to the long list of people I will slay with extreme prejudice just as soon as everybody wisens up and puts me in charge of running the fucking show on this planet. (And seriously, what is fucking taking you guys so long?)

First of all, if you are a packaging engineer and your job is to make sure toys stay properly placed in their container by wrapping seven million grey wires around every fucking thing, I hope your tongue falls off and is eaten by wild dogs. You may think it’s EXTREMELY IMPORTANT that Iron Man’s right arm is placed at a 55 degree angle, and not, say, 54.75 degrees, but I can assure you my son doesn’t fucking care. He just saw the bullshit commercial that makes it look like Iron Man walks, talks, kills bad guys, and does homework. He has no time to appreciate how Iron Man looks in the package, he just wants him fucking out of there! You could wad Iron Man up into a goddamned ball and he’d be fine with it, as long as I could get it out of the package. But when it takes me an hour and a fucking half to do just that, he gets pissed and I get homicidal. Fuck you.

Oh, and if you’re that special breed of chromosonally challenged half-wit that thinks it is reasonable to have to use a screwdriver to take a toy out of the box because YOU FUCKING SCREWED IT IN PLACE, I will be swinging by your house soon to lop off your head and piss down your neck. And I’m sure that as long as the jury has kids, I’ll be acquitted.

Haha, isn’t rage on Christmas day fun? I’m not really that tweaked about the toys I had to open today. That shit has built up over the last 11 years. They used to just dump toys into a box any old way. In the 50’s, your Barbie doll came in a box that, when opened, revealed that Barbie had become extremely interested in her toes during transit. No one fucking died. It was ok. Kids were super-fine with Barbie and were peeling her clothes off to see what she had going on under the hood in no time. Nothing had to change.

Seriously, does this kid look like he cares what Barbie looks like in the box?

Seriously, does this kid look like he cares what Barbie looks like in the box?

Actually, I only had a couple of toys this year that were crazy with the wires and screws. Most of the trouble toys just required an insane number of batteries. I bought an assload of batteries at Toys R Us when I bought the kids toys this year. I bought AA’s, AAA’s, D’s, and even those retarded C’s that no one uses. I bought an entire bag full of batteries. And I ran out of AA’s today. Twice. The guy at the convenience store looked at me as if to say, “You moron, you should’ve bought 16 AA’s the first time you were here.” To which I silently answered, “Yeah, because the prices are so fucking reasonable.” I should’ve knifed him.

Which I totally could have done because my daughter bought me a wicked awesome, death-dealing knife from Smith & Wesson for Christmas. Nothing gets a holiday of peace rollin’ like a knife capable of turning it into an instant funeral. I needed the knife for my extreme desert mountain hiking, incidentally, and not for crazy shit like drunken knife-throwing exploits or turning price gouging convenience store clerks into leaky bags of meat. With javelinas, mountain lions, and even bears out there, it’s nice to have something to defend myself. Before my daughter thoughtfully bought me a deadly weapon, the only thing I had in the way of personal defense was tears and voiding my bowels. Not pretty, and a humiliating way to leave your corpse for others to find.

On to what you missed this week while you were ruthlessly stabbing the thoughtless fucker who regifted you a fruitcake for the 14th year in a row:

And that’s it, everyone. Don’t forget to send in your hypothetical questions for tomorrow’s Weekly Hypothetical. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and that everyone has a peaceful and prosperous 2012. Unless you put grey wires on shit for a living, in which case I will kill you. I have a knife.

So, you like grey wires, huh bitch?

So, you like grey wires, huh bitch?

8 Responses to “The Week In Review”

  1. Vesta Vayne says:

    Well, at least you got to use your spiffy new deadly weapon on Christmas – I’m sure it sliced right through those grey wires.

    And that pic of the future ‘boob guy’? Priceless.

    Glad to hear your holiday was without bloodshed!

    • Greg says:

      Well, I could’ve used the knife for the grey wires, but I’m keeping it sharp for the packaging engineer who decides to weld toys into their container.

  2. Pish Posh says:

    Haha! I knew it would be a beautiful “day-after” post 🙂 That’s a killer knife (lame, sorry). Can you explain what extreme desert mountain hiking is and how such a knife comes into play? Snakes on a path? Attack of the angry cacti?

    • Greg says:

      Well, I was kinda joking around with the whole “extreme” thing. (Like back when they sold Extreme Doritos, which I’m assuming was a joke as well.)

      But even when it’s not 116 in the desert, the mountain hikes can be crazy and there are animals that however unlikely it may be to have an encounter with them, you want to have something to fight back with: javelina, wild cats, mountain lions, and even bears in higher elevations with pine trees.

      Mostly, though, it’s just a tool that comes in handy. You can dig a hole with it, cut off large tree branches, use it to cut rope… One of those things that can be the difference between life and death in extreme situations, so you may as well have one.

  3. Pish Posh says:

    I know what you mean. Sometimes I like to joke that everything I do is extreme. Extreme napping! Extreme cooking! Extreme daydreaming! Extreme blogging!

    Okay not really. I like to carry a handy-knife around with me too. I’m a nature-girl and I think sometimes I carry it in case my childhood fantasy of running away to live in the forest ever comes true. And also because sometimes the forests where I’m from are full of serial killers and bears and mountain lions (like what I’m 5’2″ I’m going to wrestle a bear?) Also now there is one Lone Wolf, who apparently, is one the longest booty call ever heard of:

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