The approach of Christmas presents a number of dilemmas. Should you put the moves on that hot co-worker at the holiday party? Is now really the best time to come out to your heavily Pentecostal family? And what brand of top-shelf vodka best drowns out the drone of your in-laws and the shrieks of your cousins' children? Rocks Off has your answers - 1. Yes. 2. Of course. 3. Trick question - use scotch. - but only because we want to address a bigger issue. Musically speaking, the holiday season sucks. It's six weeks of the same carols you grew weary of 20 years ago and "Father Christmas" by the Kinks. People wonder why so many people kill themselves in the month of December - it's because they can't handle "O Come All Ye Faithful" one more goddamned time. But if you're like us, you can't deny your baser urges. Our desire to hear the nasty stuff doesn't just go away between Thanksgiving and New Year's. What are the options for discerning listeners who want to reconcile their love of sleazy music with the holidays? Allow us to offer the following suggestions.
How refreshing that during this time when we're ostensibly celebrating
the birth of the Messiah that some of us still only have one thing on their minds. Here, Dad obviously believes his putting a bike together into the wee hours entitles him to a little nookie. And he's absolutely right.
Winter's the best time of year to be with child, especially in the South, since you don't have to worry about collapsing from heat exhaustion as you walk from the car to the front door. Those bulky sweaters, on the other hand, might just lead others to mistakenly assume you've been enjoying a few too many Whitman's samplers.
This is one way to "be of good cheer." Those old fold-out sofas tend to squeak, though.
This was pretty big medical news when it came out: for the first time, transmission of HIV between humans and jolly old elves was confirmed, leading to a widespread "safe sex" campaign in the Arboreal Realms and a necessary renaming of the virus itself.
A warning to small business owners everywhere: don't piss off your workforce or they'll make plans to nail your wife. This is also the best song about setting Santa up for a narcotics bust ever written.
Perhaps it's the level of difficulty involved - the proximity to family or the lodging in strange places - that leads to the Yuletide urge to fornicate. Or maybe eggnog is a natural aphrodisiac.
Homosexuals aren't allowed to marry, serve openly in the armed forces, or (in six states) adopt children. They are, to the best of Rocks Off's Knowledge, still permitted to observe Christmas, however.
Frankly, the whole Santa Claus story sounds like an extended double entendre: he "sees you when you're sleeping" and knows "when you've been bad or good." He creeps around your house at night before "sliding down your chimney." In retrospect, it's pretty obvious, and Carter deserves credit for being one of the first to recognize this.
We're guessing the "red" doesn't refer to Faygo Redpop, which is just as well. After all, "Christmas with the Juggalos" sounds...what's the word we're looking for...torturous? Soul-crushing? Horrific beyond the experience of mortal men? Admittedly, that's more than one word.
Yeah, we'd take this over a copy ofDragon Age: Origins
as well. One the other hand, the average BJ doesn't last 100 hours.
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