Tag Archives: Christmas Season

How to Buy a Christmas Present for Your Dad

It’s officially one week and one day until Christmas, which means that unless you don’t celebrate the holiday or are a MENSA candidate you are currently completely clueless as to what gift to buy for your father.

Dads are notoriously difficult to shop for. The main reason for this is that whenever one asks one’s father what he wants for a given holiday or birthday, the default Dad Answer() is generally one of three things:

  1. “Oh, you don’t have to give me anything. Just a phone call/you being there is enough of a gift for me.”
  2. “I dunno, whatever.”
  3. “I really have my eye on X piece of technology.” (You then research this technology and discover that it costs fourteen billion US dollars and your first born child and will become obsolete and outdated before Chinese New Year.)

So what’s an adult offspring to do? Luckily, I’m here to provide you with my foolproof X Step Guide to Buying a Christmas Present for your father:

Step 1: Buy presents for literally every other friend, family member, and pet you have as you procrastinate shopping for Dad.

Step 2: Consider buying Dad an iTunes gift card. Remember that you bought him an iTunes gift card last year. Sigh in frustration.

Step 3: Dad likes alcohol! Maybe you can get him some bartending equipment or a wine club membership or something! Yeah, that’s perfect!

Step 4: Receive a call from Mom begging you not to get Dad anymore damned bartending gadgets. He already has four red wine aerators and a deluxe gold-plated mixology set and she no longer has room in the kitchen for basic things like spoons or flour. Also, Grandpa already got him a wine-and-steak-and-cigar-and-pear-and-grapefruit-and-everything-manly of the month club so that’s out.

Step 5: Ok, fine, Mom. Head to the men’s section at Macy’s – you’ll get him a wool sweater, or some nice dress shirts! No ties, he already has a thousand ties

Step 6: Purchase a fine wool sweater and coordinating dress shirt. Call Mom in a gleeful mood to inform her of your success. You did it, and with five whole days to spare!

Step 7: Mom informs you that she has already purchased him an entire wardrobe for 2016, including the exact same sweater and shirt you bought him, along with new jeans, dress pants, khakis, shoes, a peacoat, and even a new fucking tie.

Step 8: Shake your fist in the air while swearing eternal revenge on your mother, from whom you sensed an obnoxious air of triumph over the phone at having beat you to the punch. Go to Macy’s and wait in line 45 minutes to return the sweater and shirt and argue with the saleslady who now wants to give you back 60% of what you originally paid because the item is now on sale.

Step 9: Ok, Brookstone! Brookstone is the Dad store. Maybe they have something! How about one of those cool flying drone camera things? Dad would love that shit.

Step 10: HOLY GOD EVERYTHING AT BROOKSTONE IS A BAGILLION DOLLARS INCLUDING THE DAMNED STUPID DRONE. The only items available for purchase that are under $250 are bartending-related, fuzzy throw pillows and slippers, or “personal massagers,” which…no.

Step 11: Only two days left before Christmas; you’re beginning to panic now. Call your brother to consult. He is getting Dad an iTunes gift card. You point out that you both got Dad iTunes gift cards last year. You can hear him shrugging over the phone as he says, “Whatever, I have tickets for Star Wars and my buddy Jared is waiting for me,” and hangs up on you. Asshole.

Step 12: Maybe a Michael Bublé Christmas CD? Nah, you actually like your Dad.

Step 13: Would he like some…tools? Dad’s handy, right? Lowe’s has tools, or maybe Sears, in the “harder” side of it?

Step 14: You remember the time it took Dad seven hours over a three day period to spackle and paint one wall in the downstairs bathroom. Tools are a no-go. It’s Christmas Eve now, and the stores are closing. Dad keeps hinting about all the great stuff he and Mom bought you. You ache with guilt and existential angst.

Step 15: Fuck it. You enter Walgreens ten minutes before it shuts down for the holiday and purchase a $100 iTunes gift card for your father.

You’re welcome, Apple.

 

 

 

 

 

The Single Millennial’s 15-Step Guide to Surviving the Holidays

THAT’S RIGHT, KIDDOS! It’s the most wonderful time of the year – if you’re rich, have excellent will power when it comes to eating and drinking, and are happily coupled.  Otherwise, as I well know, it can be a tough time, so to help you deal I present to you the Single Millennial’s 15-Step Guide to Surviving the Holidays! READ WITH CARE.

Step 1: Put up all your holiday decorations, including your organically farmed hypoallergenic spruce fir, energy efficient LED lights, and flameless menorah, all while enjoying the holiday stylings of Michael Bublé on Google Play! Check your calendar for the month to make sure you have all of your holiday parties and events scheduled. Make a detailed diet plan for those days when you’re not attending a holiday event to make sure you stay healthy and energized – and avoid putting on those extra holiday pounds! Pledge only to have 1-2 drinks per holiday event so as to remain hangover-free throughout the season!

Step 2: Mug of soy cocoa in hand, sit down to make your holiday gift list, including all your dear friends, coworkers, and family members. Smile as you plan fun surprises for the people you love the most in your life and imagine their faces lighting up with joy when they open your beautifully wrapped, thoughtful presents! And wow, that Michael Bublé can SING, am I right?!

Step 3: Though you have already planned out all your holiday events and shopping, you receive a last-minute invite to drinks with some friends the night before the company Christmas party. You decide to go, but you’ll just have one glass of wine – that won’t mess up your schedule!

Step 4: Wake up the next morning with a massive hangover. You’re unsure how happy hour at the wine bar turned into karaoke at 3 am, but you know you have to rally for the company party that evening so you try to hold back the vomit. You promise yourself that you will not drink at the company party – last night was a fluke, and it won’t happen again.

Step 5: Ok, so you got completely wasted at the company holiday party and dirty danced with your boss while your coworkers took videos and posted them to Instagram – so what? Everyone else was smashed, to0! Besides, the rest of your holiday events this season are with family and close friends, so you won’t be drinking a lot. What’s one night of letting loose? Also, thank the lord that they didn’t play any Michael Bublé.

Step 6: Still hungover from the company party the night before and in your pajamas, you go on Facebook at 2 pm and see a twelve-paragraph rant from your Great Uncle Ronnie about how Fox News says there’s a war on Christmas going on, led by Muslim-In-Chief NOBAMA, Planned Parenthood, and Feminazis.  Feel your stomach heave with too many mocha martinis as you thank your lucky stars you haven’t seen Great Uncle Ronnie in seven years and will likely never have to talk to him in person again.

Step 7: Around 4 pm, you receive a call from your mother informing you that Great Uncle Ronnie will be attending Christmas dinner this year and you will need to purchase a present for him. Take a long shower and cry from the DTs and then go to the bodega. Buy and immediately consume a Family Size bag of Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream chips. Go to bed at 7 pm full of self-loathing.

Step 8: You wake up early feeling much better the next day, so you decide to go online to attack your Christmas shopping. Let’s see…maybe a sweater for Lucy, and Eric might like that new book by Ta-Nehisi Coates…

Step 9: …Jesus Christ, when did sweaters and books get so damned expensive? You haven’t seen Eric since Halloween, so he probably won’t get you anything, either, and he can just buy that book on Kindle Unlimited if he wants it, anyways. And Lucy, well, that girl comes from money and her boyfriend’s always buying her expensive shit, so there’s nothing you could get her that she doesn’t already have. You’ll just get cards for everyone at Walgreens, that will be fine, right? You don’t need to spend money to show your love for your friends!

Step 10: Oh, shit, you have to buy something for Uncle Ronnie. According to his Facebook page, all he really wants for Christmas is an AR-15. You briefly consider buying him a copy of Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay but decide you do, in fact, want to survive until 2016. You order him the latest Michael Bublé Christmas CD instead. Take that, asshole.

Step 11: Attend your annual friend group holiday gathering. Every other fucking person there has brought gifts for you, and all you have for them are these damned Walgreens cards. Also ERIC GOT YOU A SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLAR GIFT CERTIFICATE TO TARGET ARE YOU KIDDING ME? You slink to the corner, ashamed, and drink the equivalent of two bottles of wine by yourself as you realize that not only is everyone else more generous than you are, they are all also in long term relationships and you are the only single person at the party. Are you the only single person BECAUSE you’re not generous? Is that why? Also, why is the host playing Michael Bublé music? Why are you alone? WHYYYYY AM I-

Step 12: Wake up feeling awful. Realize that after you blacked out the night before, Eric and Lucy had to pour you into an Uber during surge pricing and drag you up three flights of stairs to your apartment to put you to bed. Oops. If nothing else, you now owe them each a major apology gift. Get on the scale and decide that since you’re already fucked, weight-wise, you might as well go all-in. You order an entire large pizza and eat it alone while watching While You Were Sleeping on TV with commercials, even though you have the DVD on your shelf (you’re just too lazy get it and put it in). Fall asleep at 2 am with your head on the pizza box after watching your thirtieth commercial for the upcoming Michael Bublé Christmas special.

Step 13: Travel home for the holidays. Somehow, end up in the middle seat  on your six hour flight. Because of “high winds” your plane needs to land in Vegas for 30 minutes to refuel. Thirty minutes becomes ninety and you order three of those little bottles of wine to keep yourself sane as the two giant men on either side of you jab their elbows into your ribs and fart copiously.

Step 14: Arrive home and watch your parents bite their tongues to avoid commenting on your disheveled and bloated appearance. Go to your childhood bedroom and pass out for ten hours because, damn it, you’ve earned it, and you need to steel yourself for Christmas dinner with Uncle Ronnie, who’s told your mother via text several times that he’s really concerned that you haven’t found a man to take care of you yet and that it’s all Feminism’s fault.

Step 15: On Christmas morning, your mother lets you know that Uncle Ronnie is at home with gout and will not be attending Christmas dinner after all! Beam as you sit down with your family for the meal, and tear up as you realize that, hey, maybe there is a God, after all! Huzzah! Joy to the World, bitches!

Finally, after dinner, your mom tells you she’d like the whole family to join her in the family room to watch the Michael Bublé special, which she recorded on DVR.

WHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYASYD;LAJS;GAKS?

In the name of Bublé, I wish you a happy holiday season.