And To All A Good Donkey Show

01/06/2014 · 8 comments

in I'm A Terrible Person

Over Christmastime, I spend time with more family than I ever remember that I have. Sister, brothers, aunts, uncles, children, friends–all of whom I don’t see often.

We don’t see these family members often, so it’s always a new experience. It’s always an adventure. It’s always pretty fucked up Every time Adrian and I do our Holiday Round-Up Tour, we get to see, hear, and say the weirdest shit you can imagine.

Such as the following to children:

  • That’s not how you spell whore. You are missing the W.
  • We can only have one thing: Donkey Show or Christmas Tree. Which one do you really want?
  • Yes, if you want to dress up in front of the Christmas Tree with your Donkey Show dress you can
  • Because it’s not polite to fart on my toast
  • Oh, it’s an X-Wing Fighter. I thought it was a dildo for a second.
  • Never, ever repeat that word ever. I slipped.
  • We don’t say things like “I love the taste of blood.”
  • We don’t say it because we’re Transylvanian and people ask questions.
  • No, I won’t let you die on the tubes like last year

And to Adults:

  • I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over this Alan Jackson Yodeling Contest
  • I’m sure I’ll find a place for this 18 Month Bieber Calendar
  • Jackoff Contest with the shaky flashlight—GO!
  • I know it’s tough for women to lace up snowboard boots, but I’m fuckin’ sure I can figure it out
  • It’s tougher to explain racism within the bounds of a 5-second-rule, sure
  • This salsa tastes like I got throat-fucked with celery
  • Now he has a salt-gun for bugs and wine for the front porch? We don’t need more help being redneck.
  • It’s not unchristian to play drinking games and eat Dairy Queen on Christmas day. This is my body, this is my blood. Right?

Christmas is a weird time, you guys.


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