SEEING RED

There's only so much imbecility a man can stand. Which is why I am overjoyed today that my job is in Marin. It's Santa Con in San Francisco, the day when twenty something white boys who missed Saint Patrick's day get extremely drunk, dressed as Santa.
With their molls. Inebriated elfish molls.


"Hey Gary, how's your twit bitch girlfriend?"

"Karen? She's in the next stall, barfing."


Or Amber. Or Tiffany. Or whatever other name goes with bouffant blonde home coming queen sorority girl. Miss Industrial Equipment Supply of 2017. Thousands of yupty Santas and Elves descending on bars all day and puking. Or, as happened a few years ago, trashing a Tandoori restaurant nearby. That was the same day a stoned elf climbed one of the trees on Polk Street and had to be coaxed down for her arrest.

It is, of course, a mostly bourgeois white people affair. Very Chad and Karen.

There are reasons to loathe the month leading up to Christmas.



Contrary to popular belief it is currently not the actual Christmas season but rather the liturgical season of Advent, which is traditionally observed (with forty days) of fasting and penitence (self flagellation, mortifying the flesh, and harsh agonised wailing, long and loud).

Alcoholic white people commercialising the season are waging war on Christmas, and are abominations, who must be countered with riot police and water canons.

Again, that's flagellation, flesh mortification, and loud wailing.

Not Jägy shots, watery beer, and mutual groping.

I seriously disapprove of you lot.

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