Frank Costanza: “Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way.”
Kramer: “What happened to the doll?”
Frank Costanza: “It was destroyed. But out of that a new holiday was born: a Festivus for the rest of us!”
Kramer: “That must have been some kind of doll.”
Frank Costanza: “She was.
Festivus has gone from a sitcom gag to a legit holiday. People all over have Festivus celebrations, complete with the traditional aluminum pole, a Festivus meal, the Airing of Grievances and Feats of Strength.
If you’re going to do Festivus right, you have to start with the pole. There’s nothing fancy about it. It’s a simple aluminum pole. You don’t decorate it. You just put it in the middle of the room like a tree.
Things are a little tight financially for me and I couldn’t afford a Festivus pole, so I used the vacuum cleaner wand. It’s silver and some sort of metal, so I figured it would do. I was going to use a hockey stick, but mine are all composite. And yellow. The wand seemed to work better.
Once you have your family and friends gathered, you share the Festivus meal. I don’t believe there is a traditional meal that should be served, but I’m not 100% certain, so don’t quote me on that.
Tonight we will gather around the Festivus table where Drama Queen and I will be enjoying buffalo chicken sandwiches, French fries and fresh green beans. If I have time I may even whip up a Festivus apple pie. We’ll have to see how much time I have after I spend the day doing jack shit.
Frank Costanza: “And at the Festivus dinner, you gather your family around, and tell them all the ways they have disappointed you over the past year!”
This year it will be just Drama Queen and I celebrating Festivus and believe me when I say that we are both already well aware of what our grievances are against each other. That means we won’t spend a lot of time airing out against each other and can instead focus on other people.
I’ve complied a list of some grievances I plan on airing and I’ve decided to share that list with you.
To the trolls that stalk my blog endlessly, I say, “Blow me”. No one gives a crap about your shitty websites and they never will. If you can’t spam in proper English or even in actual letters why would I want to pay attention to you.
To all the Gleeks of the world I say, “What the fuck?” I’ve never actually seen the show, but I know it sucks. Allow me to be proactive and answer the question I know you’re going to ask. “How do I know I won’t like it if I’ve never seen it?” I’ve never been junk punched, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like that. There are some things a guy just knows.
To the douchebag that owns the company I worked for “There is a special place in hell for assclowns like you.” I don’t think I need to elaborate on that one. It pretty much speaks for itself.
To the woman who jacked my parking spot at the mall on Drama Queen’s birthday, I say, “When I got out of my car to ask what the hell you were doing, you laughed at me and snottily told me to have a nice day, but that’s OK. I was the guy who took a picture of your license plate with my camera phone and told mall security you were driving 30 MPH in the parking lot and almost hit me.” Also, “Those pants probably would have looked good on you about 45 pounds ago, but not now.”
To the editors of Modern Mom who dumped me as a Featured Blogger without having the courtesy of telling me, I say, “You said women found me offensive, yet you have Denise Richards as a Featured Blogger. Denise Fucking Richards. Need I say more?” Your loss. All kinds of moms dig me and every last one of them is more modern than you.
To Time Warner Cable, I say, “Man up and get the NFL Network. The NHL Network too. While you’re at it, if you actually dump Fox on January 1, I’m gonna have to go all Gordon Ramsey on your ass.”
To the 48-Year-Old Hottie, I say, “I don’t know why you got so mad at me for asking if you wanted to pray.” You’re the one who said on our second (and last) date that you were religious and that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone unless you prayed with him first. I just assumed that since we were making out pretty heavy on your couch, that you wanted to pray with me at that moment. I know I wanted to have sex with you at that moment. “My bad.”
If you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure that the living room is set up properly for the Feats of Strength. I know it’s not fair for a 19-year-old girl to try to pin a man who is, well, older than 19, but it’s the hand she’s been dealt and she’ll have to take her whuppin’ with a smile.
If you don’t believe in Festivus, that’s cool. They say that every year there is Festivus Miracle. If anything good happens to you on December 23, you will have your proof.
If you have a grievance you’d like to air—either against me or someone else, please feel free to leave it in the comment section.
Have a Happy Festivus and a Bitchin’ New Year.
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