Hey there! I’m glad to see you survived Christmas. I had a wonderful day with my family, who totally spoiled me. I hope your day was filled with love and peace.Whew, take a deep breath and pat yourself on the back for living to tell about your holiday. After weeks of planning, decorating, shopping, wrapping, cleaning, cooking and parties…sheesh! After all your careful attention to making the packages beautiful—expensive wrapping paper, tying them up with pretty ribbons and bows only to watch them be ripped open in all of about five minutes. That’s all the longer it takes. Five minutes to rip open the packages, dump the loot out of the stockings and Christmas is over for everyone but you.
Then you get to spend hours cleaning up all the debris from the annual orgy of greed. It’s up to you to save all the instructions, assemble all those items which require it, breakdown all the boxes and toss all the shredded paper, ribbons and tags. You do all this while slaving in the kitchen to prepare the feast as everyone else goes off to play with their new must-have frobble gleamers.
Oh, but that’s not the end of your job. Now you have to head back to the stores for all those returns and exchanges of clothes that didn’t fit or items they didn’t really want. Then its time to get some exercise to work off those post-holiday blues, along with those post-holiday pounds.
Only 363 days ‘til Christmas ’08.
The Twelve Days After Christmas
Then you get to spend hours cleaning up all the debris from the annual orgy of greed. It’s up to you to save all the instructions, assemble all those items which require it, breakdown all the boxes and toss all the shredded paper, ribbons and tags. You do all this while slaving in the kitchen to prepare the feast as everyone else goes off to play with their new must-have frobble gleamers.
Oh, but that’s not the end of your job. Now you have to head back to the stores for all those returns and exchanges of clothes that didn’t fit or items they didn’t really want. Then its time to get some exercise to work off those post-holiday blues, along with those post-holiday pounds.
Only 363 days ‘til Christmas ’08.
The Twelve Days After Christmas
The lyrics:
The first day after Christmas my true love and I had a fight,
And so I chopped the pear tree down and burned it just for spite.
Then with a single cartridge, I shot that blasted partridge,
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The second day after Christmas, I pulled on the old rubber gloves,
And very gently wrung the necks of both the turtle doves.
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The third day after Christmas, my mother caught the croup;
I had to use the three Frech hens to make some chicken soup.
The four calling birds were a big mistake,
for their language was obscene.
The five gold rings were completely fake
and they turned my fingers green.
The sixth day after Christmas, the six laying geese wouldn't lay,
I gave the whole darn gaggle to the A.S.P.C.A.
On the seventh day what a mess I found,
All seven of the swimming swans had drowned.
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The eighth day after Christmas, before they could suspect,
I bundled up the eight maids a milking, nine pipers piping, Ten ladies dancing, 'leven lords a leaping, Twelve drummers drumming and sent them back collect.
I wrote my true love, "We are through, love",
and I said in so many words,
"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the birds!"
And so I chopped the pear tree down and burned it just for spite.
Then with a single cartridge, I shot that blasted partridge,
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The second day after Christmas, I pulled on the old rubber gloves,
And very gently wrung the necks of both the turtle doves.
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The third day after Christmas, my mother caught the croup;
I had to use the three Frech hens to make some chicken soup.
The four calling birds were a big mistake,
for their language was obscene.
The five gold rings were completely fake
and they turned my fingers green.
The sixth day after Christmas, the six laying geese wouldn't lay,
I gave the whole darn gaggle to the A.S.P.C.A.
On the seventh day what a mess I found,
All seven of the swimming swans had drowned.
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The eighth day after Christmas, before they could suspect,
I bundled up the eight maids a milking, nine pipers piping, Ten ladies dancing, 'leven lords a leaping, Twelve drummers drumming and sent them back collect.
I wrote my true love, "We are through, love",
and I said in so many words,
"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the birds!"
4 comments:
OMG Nic, this is SO true!I'm laughing my butt off! You really hit the post-holiday crash right on the head. And I have to adore the video... I expect everyone's feeling like that right about now! Super post, Hussy sister!!! 363 days to go, huh? Oh gawd...
only 363 days to go??? Egads, I better get busy! Loved the video! I suspect it mirrors what a lot of people are thinking right now. For me, I'm just glad that all the post-holiday stuff is almost done.Still have to take down the tree but I was waiting to see if a black hole would appear that I could just drop it in.
Thanks for the morning laugh!!
Everyone needs a black hole. Heck, right now I wish one would suck up my entire house so I don't have to clean up the holiday debris. LOL!
The song is too funny! It is a let down. I prefer the old way of a gift a day for 12 days... Russian tradition? I can't recall the origin but definitely would make it last longer.
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