No Christmas Gifts For You!

I was a man of my word. I didn't buy anyone over 18 years of age a single gift this year.

Sure I bought my nieces, nephews and two kids some Christmas cheer. But that was it.

And guess what? Nobody's pissed off. In fact, I think people are actually happy that they didn't have to buy me anything either.

And just like Kramer shunning boxers and underwear for nothing under his pants, I'm loving every minute of it.

This holiday season, I had a blast roaming through the aisles of Target, Home Depot, WalMart and Barnes & Noble stress-free. I didn't have to search the CD aisles looking for Celine Dion's Greatest Hits for my sister-in-law or L.L. Cool J's debut album Radio for my brother.

Did I buy my aunt Chicken Soup for the Soul last year? Does my dad need another box of assorted flashlights? Does Mom really need another sweatshirt emblazoned with Ohio State Mom?

Who fucking cares!

Hard to believe, but I got my wife-to-be wrapped up in the no-holiday-gift-buying frenzy this year. Let me just say, the smile hasn't worn off her face yet. I think she enjoyed focusing strictly on the kids in the family. Hell, I even got a little kick out of hitting the toy stores searching for gifts for the little fuckers.

That was fun.

But buying a Giant Eagle fruitcake for my grandma every single year isn't fun. In fact, I've heard from reliable sources (i.e. my uncle) that grandma cuts off one piece of the fruitcake. Eats it. Than wraps the rest in aluminum foil and hides it deep, down inside the fridge like it was the Lost Ark of the Covenant. Come Springtime the thing probably resembles a Chia-pet.

Look, I know this no-buying-policy may not work for every family. I mean, who wouldn't want an extra screwdriver/socket set or Jerry Garcia tie for Christmas from your great Uncle Pete every single fucking year?

But, for this happy man, I'm going to hang on to this no-gift-over-18-policy for years and years and years to come.

Fuck it, I may even add the policy to birthdays as well. Can't wait to see how many party invitations I'll get after that.

Yep. That's right. Who fucking cares!

Opposite Ends of the Shopping Spectrum.

This past week, I had the (dis)honor of shopping at both Target and Wal-mart - two completely opposite ends of the shopping spectrum, in my opinion.

On average, Target attracts around 80% beautiful people and 20% ugly people. Wal-mart just attracts the uglies. It’s like the shoppers pulled themselves out of the sewer like the movie C.H.U.D., filled out a credit-card application and shuffled into a Wal-mart. Ewww.

SIDENOTE: When is C.H.U.D. ever going to be a Broadway musical? That would be badass.

Look, I agree that Wal-mart has great discounts - maybe even better than Target. I even like that little yellow smiling, whistling happy face that hops around from product to product, giving discounts and making everyone giddy. But, you know what? I don’t fucking care. I'll spend the extra dough just so I can look at some pretty (sometimes even foxy) people when I shop.

Walking down the aisles of Wal-mart, you run into rude moms and dads (with a slight scent of Jack Daniels, I believe). They've got 20 kids hanging off their shopping cart (like one of those trains in India) leaving a trail of candy, toys and used tissues in their path. It's like a white-trash hurricane hit or something. Plus, almost everyone is on their cell-phone, talking really loud and jabbering about their ex-boy(girl)friend and what an asshole (s)he is. In the same breath they're yelling, screaming and spanking their brood along the way.

And what’s with those kids? Every single Wal-mart kid I've seen has that brown, dirt ring-around-the-mouth look. It’s like they drank a glass of MUD-FLAVORED KOOL-AID before they entered the store. Note to Parents: There are these little things called 'wipes'. You can find them in the baby section of Wal-mart. Check 'em out! They work.

Rather than go into exhaustive detail on the subject, I’d simply like to compare both stores to SEX. Ladies, feel free to switch it around to 'dudes' if you must. It still works.

Target is like a hot woman who digs you. She may even love you. Even before you go inside her, you realize she’s clean, she smells nice and she’s wearing freshly laundered white panties. When you go in her, you have such a great experience that you want to come back again and again and again.

Wal-mart, on the other hand, is like a one-night stand gone bad. You keep telling yourself, “Everything is cool. This is going to be OK. Hopefully she doesn't have any diseases” Even before you go inside, you see some debris scattered around her 'area'. You realize she’s wearing nasty panties that she hasn’t changed in a week, if not a month. You go in anyhow and there’s a nasty funk overpowering the place. After you're 'finished' and she's resting her head on your shoulder, you want to pull a Coyote Ugly and gnaw your arm off just to get away. When you finally get away you take, like, 15 showers with a Brillo pad curled up in your bath-tub, sobbing.

Then, the next day, you send Target a dozen roses telling her that you love her, you apologize for cheating on her and ask her to take you back.

You know she'll take you back. She always does.