The children insist upon endless viewings and re-viewings of Rankin/Bass Christmas specials. Fuck Rankin/Bass Christmas specials.
You may have a warm space in your heart for Rankin/Bass Christmas specials, a certain nostalgia for childhood evenings snuggling up on the couch in your footy pajamas, hot cocoa in your pudgy little paw, pudding curdling in your tummy, feverishly counting down the minutes until Rudolph and his cretinous Christmas-Town pals would come on the screen and sing horrible holiday shit at you -- and you ate that shit up, didn't you? Didn't you? Do you know WHY you loved that godawful crap about Snow Misers and Bumbles and MeisterBurgers and all that other Kris-Kringley drivel? Because even then you were a weak-willed, cringing little milksop, devoid of taste. "But I was only six!" you exclaim, cut to the quick. THAT IS NO EXCUSE. You should have insisted upon more wholesome Yule-tide fare. Gregorian chants, perhaps. You and your family should have shut off the damn television for ONCE and held hands next to the Christmas Tree and chanted, chanted, MOTHERFUCKING CHANTED until the tears dripped down your red, raw nose and fell with a sad little "plink" on the floor. Then you should have gotten Dad a nice glass of whiskey and slunk away, ashamed, off to bed to reflect on your disgusting little sins, resolved in your mushy little heart not to be such a pain in the ass to your long-suffering father in the long years to come.
FUCK RANKIN/BASS CHRISTMAS SPECIALS. Let me just go see what happens when you put a DVD in the microwave.
UPDATE. There is no "joke" here. This is REAL.
UPDATE. In a world where the end of I Am Legend did not provoke Bloody Reprisals, anything is, after all, possible.
FURTHER. Molly Ivors and I have a Profound Disagreement, as to the music that might be played at our funerals. If she dies first, I am to play "Salisbury Hill" -- I find this unacceptable, as I've never thought that song was all that great. I mean, it's good, but you know? On the other hand, Molly I only laughs whenever I say that if I die, I want my funeral hymn to be "Momma Said Knock You Out" by LL Cool J. But that song has very great emotional resonance for me. This is a Conundrum of Modern Couplehood and I adduce it as such.