Christmas Day comes around just as quickly as it goes away each year. However, the one thing that awkwardly overstays its welcome much longer than is sociably acceptable. Other than your creepy single uncle fooling no one but his mirror with his attempted combover, is that withering Christmas tree kept in the unproductive corner of the family room. (or in my neighbor’s case in the side yard facing my house for over a year now)The once proud symbol of your holiday spirit is now not only a burdensome reminder of your own mortality. But, more importantly, the belated heads up about your town’s needle-shedding squatter pick-up day that you already missed. This is rapidly becoming your least favorite tradition since your doctor increased the frequency of his kielbasa-fingered prostate exams to annually. No worries, plenty of worthy options exist for pine-scented tinder piles besides spontaneously combusting in the new year. I probably wouldn’t recommend this person’s last resort/inventive decision to leave it at a parking meter until the quarters run out. Then, pray a tow truck takes it away with no questions asked. Although I do appreciate the originality of their tree removal idea, it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi in the class department.
Since I consider myself the antithesis of a craftsman and the only artistic bone in my body comes once a year during the prostate exam, we’ve already discussed way too much here. (I hear my doctor is a needlepoint wiz in his downtime) So naturally, most of the above ideas aren’t practical for my lifestyle. I prefer letting someone enjoy my barky leftovers without suffering the embarrassment of gifting someone a blood-soaked personalized wooden coaster A la Thurman Merman from Bad Santa. Only to have them immediately throw it away once I’m no longer within earshot. No one deserves the emotional or physical scars whittling leaves in its wake. Thankfully, our furry pals below genuinely enjoy my tinsel-less second helpings of potpourri potluck more than my family and friends could ever.
The only thing cooler than watching goats feast and lions getting “White girl wasted” on makeshift bigcat-nip is helping to save the planet. That is just about the pinnacle of coolness. That’s why the following usage of your post-Christmas compost might be the best one of them all. Yes, saving our coastlines and ecosystems from erosion is a far superior present to your future ancestors. Than any X-mas elf-inspired hand-me-down that will eventually pass through a dog’s bowel system or be confused for a sex toy over its tragic lifespan’s journey, post tree limb days, of course.
In Today’s Palate Cleanser, we watch a man’s best friend playing the most intense version of “Road Trip Bingo” I’ve seen. Since before becoming a teen, more concerned with being attractive to the opposite sex than enjoying some legitimate family fun time on the road. Somehow, the irony of still riding in the way back of my family’s station wagon was completely lost on me at that prime age of young and dumb denialism.
THE-ANTI-SOCIAL-MEDIA 