Wednesday, January 11, 2012

// //

Overdue Christmas Post

Before I get too deep into this bout of ungratefulness, let me just say that I always appreciate any presents people get for me. It just so happens that my parents are the most unintentionally hilarious gift-givers out there, and it’s high time the world heard about it.

Through the years I’ve acquired too many unwearable sweaters and indescribable oddities to keep track of. To give you a taste, two years ago my dad bought me a three-pack of sports blooper videos. On VHS. From 1987. One year my mom bought my brother and I matching rollerblades. I was 17. My brother was 28.

This year, though, was something else. That picture up there is of all my presents from this year. Let’s break down the haul real quick. It’s a little tough to see, but if you look closely you’ll find:

a leather jacket
a fire extinguisher
body wash
some weird ass rice mix
a thermometer
dish cloths
gardening gloves
a scented candle
a set of sheets
a 17-piece culinary set
three, count em THREE, different tool sets

Not even sure where to begin here. I guess I’ll start with the culinary set. Real talk: I had half a Snickers for dinner tonight. Odds of me needing a cheese grater in the next four years are outlandish.

Next we’ll go to the…fire extinguisher? Really have no words for this one. Had a tough time stammering out a thank you after unwrapping this little guy.

Hmm…Gardening gloves…Is it weird that my first thought was to wonder how these could somehow tie into masturbation?

Yes. Yes that is weird.

Lastly let’s look at those toolboxes. Bear in mind, my dad gave me a toolbox before I moved out in August, so now the number of screwdrivers in my apartment is flirting with triple digits. And two saws? Unless a tree limb starts growing through one of my apartment windows, don’t see those coming into play.

I’ve never really been one for fixing things (read: broken toilet), but I guess in the four months since I’ve moved out my parents got the impression that I turned into some sort of motorcycle-riding, tidy-house-keeping handyman. Who knew?

PS. The saw in the lower right is some straight up serial killer shit