Friday, December 4, 2009

Stop Giving Me Crap For Christmas

By Bobby Gaylor

Just when you think you know me
And I give you credit for being on the ball
Christmas rolls around, I open your gift
And I see, you don't know me at all
So if you don't listen to anything else
That I say all year long
Pay close attention to this
Because it's my real holiday wish…


Stop giving me crap for Christmas
Useless crap
Stop giving me crap for Christmas

Forget the Clapper, I don't need to turn my lights off from bed
I don't want a Chia Dog, a Chia Sheep, a Chia Cow, or a Chia Head
And don't get some movie on video that's been marked down to $3.99
You wouldn't want to watch this piece of junk, why do you think I want to waste my time?
Now here's something that cuts me to the bone:
You order a subscription to Sports Illustrated,
You keep the magazine and give me the stupid football phone.
And I don't need Abs of Steel,
Buns of Steel,
Richard Simmons' Deal-a-Meal
Or absolutely anything made by Ron Popeil


I don't need a radar detector, a compass, or a dashboard Jesus
Or my intestines bound up by a box of Hickory Farm Cheeses
I don't need the Showtime Oven that cooks, like, 2 ducks, 12 garlic bulbs, and a turkey
Or a food dehydrator if it dries fruit or beef jerky
And please, no wall-mounted or counter-top spice racks
Or the Ab Roller, Ab Slide, Ab Rocker, Ab Dolly or the Torso Track
No calendars featuring supermodel bimbos or babies in hats
And no Christmas music by the Jingle Dogs or the Jingle Cats
And ask me my size.
I'm tying my shirt so my fingers don't even poke out of the sleeves
And hey, isn't this the fruitcake Uncle Mike gave you last Christmas Eve?
And if you're even remotely thinking about getting me that singing, joke-telling, wall-mounted bass,
Just remember what that rhymes with, because that's where I'm gonna stick it.


Alright, listen up.
I don't want anything proceeded by the word "decorative,"
Anything that comes with a stuffed bear or a troll doll that says "I love you."
No electronic devices that, when you push a button, say things like "Hey stupid!" or "Up yours!"
I don't want a pasta maker, a bread maker, a juice maker, a waffle maker, sandwich maker, salad maker, label maker, be a maker, wine maker,
Sausage maker, ice cream maker, pastry maker, salsa maker, coffee maker, sun tea maker
If I want that stuff, I'll buy it
I don't want anything that chops, beats, grinds, purees, minces, or slices
Cubes, shreds, blends, separates, juliennes, or dices
No 2-gallon bottles of generic shampoo "Now with 10% More!"
And nothing advertized with the slogan "Not available in any store!"
You know, they say it's the thought that counts,
So instead of making me cringe every year with what you bought,
Let's call it even forever and stop at the thought.



Forget about the one-pound Hershey Kiss or the big pack of Life Savers,
And no smoked almonds in a dozen obscene artificial flavors,
I don't want a subscription to "Fielder's Dreams," "Sailing," or "Understanding Zen,"
And I stopped wearing pajamas when I was ten
And if you're thinking of anything from an infomercial by Tony Robbins, Body by Jake, Don Debris, Mary Lou Harris, Susanna Summers or Billy Blanks
I got two words for you: "No thanks!"
Here's something not to get me:
A coffee mug with a slogan that says something like,
"Don't talk to him, he hasn't had his coffee yet."
You're an idiot!

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