A trip to the mall

To: Shoppers
From: Satan's retarded cousin
Date: Tomorrow
Subject: [Insert 30 seconds of thinking up a vapid subject line.]

OK... So I know I’ve went into detail (12 reasons) why I hate Christmas, or just the holiday season in general. But goddamn. I had to go shopping this weekend because, as luck would fucking have it, my girlfriend’s birthday is the 19th (today, the day before my birthday).

Being the piece-of-shit procrastinator that I am, I waited until Saturday to get her presents. Here’s my recount of holiday shopping on Saturday:

9:00 — Wake up. I’m gonna beat these blood-and-energy-sucking shoppers to the mall. Hopefully, I’ll at least park on the mall’s property.

9:34 — “God, son-of-a.., mother — shit!” What the hell? Are they fucking giving away gifts? The parking lot is packed, but I caught some ass pirate backing out and took his spot.

10:15-ish — I’m standing in line at Aeropostale. My girlfriend wanted a matching set — hoodie, gloves, scarf. In front of me, I see the perfect example of those mothers I hate. Naw, not hate. Fucking detest. From behind, I’d guess she was 18 ... 19 tops, guessing from her clothes and physique. Then she turned around. Ugh... that image is haunting. She reminded me of that girl in high school that had a great body but was a butter face (ya know, her body’s good but ‘er face is fucked), so you always thought, “Well, if all else fails, she could be a stripper.” She was on the phone — probably talking to her pussy-whipped, Michael Bolton-loving husband — telling him about all the stuff she had to do that day.
I guess the look on my face showed total abhorrence because the hot girl that rang me up asked if I knew that woman. I gladly replied, “No. Thank god, NO.”

11:40 — I’m in Dillard’s. I’ve got the last gift I need. The line is short. It’s all gravy. Then, I hear a note of the song about to play on their speakers. I literally cringed in disgust. I’d be a damned liar if it wasn’t Bing Fucking Crosby. Where’s a Mormon?, I thought.

... Thankfully, I made it home without choking a Mormon, cussing out a kid, being forced to smoke in a no-smoking establishment or randomly tripping someone and blaming it on someone else.

Need I reiterate it? I fucking hate Christmas.