Archive for the Christmas is Ruined Category

Happy Boxing Day!

Posted in Christmas is Ruined, Violence on December 25, 2008 by darbydale

With St. Nicholas and Krampus on their merry way, we must turn our attention to Boxing Day.  As always, I’ll spend it playing with toys and watching English football.  

I’ll leave it to our resident religious scholars to speak about St. Stephen’s Day.  I read about it and can’t say I entirely understand it.  Being the first to do something is always cool though, unless that something is being stoned to death:


Admit it: Santa is objectively terrifying

Posted in Christmas is Ruined, Horror, Kids on December 23, 2008 by paulbibeau

It’s not some phobia from when you were young.  It’s not that kids are skittish around strangers.  He’s just really, really scary. 

Just look at this bastard.  If I saw that crawling out of my fireplace I’d start whacking it with a poker, and I wouldn’t stop until it was a wet, unrecognizable mess.  Seriously.  Close the flue.

The Facts of Life

Posted in Christmas is Ruined, Horror, Kids, Tootie on December 22, 2008 by paulbibeau

Four teenage girls and an old woman give a concert in a large prison cafeteria surrounded by convicts with no armed guards in sight. What could possibly go wrong? I challenge you to watch the whole clip without imagining scenes of unspeakable horror. (I found this at, which is a site devoted to scary childhood toys, games, and TV shows).

Christmas is Ruined, Part 2

Posted in Christmas is Ruined, Culture, Kids, Stories of True Love with tags , on December 8, 2008 by lindendale

Here in Milwaukee, 99.1 WMYX has been playing nothing but Christmas music since before Thanksgiving.  Because I have a young son who is very much in the Christmas spirit, I have it on whenever we are in the car together.  Because I want to be a good father and not ruin Christmas, I refrain from giving voice to the running commentary in my head. For example, I think:

  • This Trans-Siberian Orchestra tune sounds like a Metallica cover band playing the Precious Memories company party in Branson, Missouri.

  • I fucking hate key changes.  It doesn’t make the song more dynamic.  It is a clear sign that you have no imagination and your song blows.

  • “Christmas Shoes”  Oh my god, this may be the worst Christmas song of all time.  If I had an online dictionary, for the word treacle, it would simply say “See ‘Christmas Shoes.'”  Let me summarize: kid who doesn’t have enough money wants to get his dying mother some nice shoes so she can look good for Jesus when she dies.  I am not falling for that shit. Get away from my heart strings with that bathos.  FUCK YOU KID! 

Oh my god, I just discovered that it is also a book and a TV movie, featuring Rob Lowe.  Here it is, because I like to make people vomit eggnog:

It is by sheer will that I have not driven my car head-first into a tree.

Door Buster Savings ! ! ! (Christmas is Ruined, Part 1)

Posted in Christmas is Ruined, Culture, Horror, Violence on December 5, 2008 by lindendale

I don’t know why it always comes back to zombies.  It doesn’t.  Okay, this time it does.

Long Island Man Killed During Shopping Frenzy.

By 4:55, with no police officers in sight, the crowd of more than 2,000 had become a rabble, and could be held back no longer. Fists banged and shoulders pressed on the sliding-glass double doors, which bowed in with the weight of the assault. Six to 10 workers inside tried to push back, but it was hopeless.

Suddenly, witnesses and the police said, the doors shattered, and the shrieking mob surged through in a blind rush for holiday bargains. One worker, Jdimytai Damour, 34, was thrown back onto the black linoleum tiles and trampled in the stampede that streamed over and around him. Others who had stood alongside Mr. Damour trying to hold the doors were also hurled back and run over, witnesses said.

This poor fucker was trampled to death by a crowd of shoppers.  Merry Fucking Christmas.  Why the hurry?  Stop and eat his brain too.

Here’s some news footage of the incident:

Lesson: shop online.