12/02/2006
Your Christmas Tree Secretly Hates You
Your tree remains stoic while cursing your “Motherfucking Guts”
When you piled the whole family into your oversized SUV this morning, it seemed like the dawn of an ideal December morning: brisk, refreshing, and full of promise.
Little did you know, however, that the $59 Douglas fir that you purchased from a one-eyed tree farmer named Bif would secretly hate you for the remainder of the holiday season, cursing your name with every needle on its boughs.
“That guy is a retard, straight up,” your tree remarked during an exclusive interview with the National Nitwit. “I was a solid 9 ft. monster before that jackass showed up. Then he gives this song-and-dance about how the parlor has a low ceiling—so there I was, getting my stump sawed down to a pitiful stub. Why didn’t he just pick out some little pussy tree? There were tons of ‘em. But no—he had to ruin my pastoral majesty n’ shit.”
Your tree continued to outline the miserable conditions in your home.
“Three hours and counting. I’ve been here three goddamn hours and counting, and they still haven’t watered my ass,” bemoaned your tree while your ragged, snotty children bickered over whose turn it was with the only functional Playstation II controller in the house. “I hope his wife has sex with the bag boy in a Kroger parking lot after doing some late-night grocery shopping this week. Ugh. To think I left Wauseon for this.”
Your tree has memories of when it was a strapping fir in the forest
Unfortunately for you, the tree you purchased is not willing to go along with your proposed "holiday maintenance" program.
"No fucking way I am drinking tap water with that disgusting 'Tree Stabilizer' added to it," your tree said, crossing its longest boughs in defiance. "I hope to God one of these light strands has a short, so my dry tinder catches fire and the entire house burns down. Or that maybe one of those curtain-climbing little freaks of yours decides to play with matches near me - pfoof! Merry Christmas, you bastards."
When you piled the whole family into your oversized SUV this morning, it seemed like the dawn of an ideal December morning: brisk, refreshing, and full of promise.
Little did you know, however, that the $59 Douglas fir that you purchased from a one-eyed tree farmer named Bif would secretly hate you for the remainder of the holiday season, cursing your name with every needle on its boughs.
“That guy is a retard, straight up,” your tree remarked during an exclusive interview with the National Nitwit. “I was a solid 9 ft. monster before that jackass showed up. Then he gives this song-and-dance about how the parlor has a low ceiling—so there I was, getting my stump sawed down to a pitiful stub. Why didn’t he just pick out some little pussy tree? There were tons of ‘em. But no—he had to ruin my pastoral majesty n’ shit.”
Your tree continued to outline the miserable conditions in your home.
“Three hours and counting. I’ve been here three goddamn hours and counting, and they still haven’t watered my ass,” bemoaned your tree while your ragged, snotty children bickered over whose turn it was with the only functional Playstation II controller in the house. “I hope his wife has sex with the bag boy in a Kroger parking lot after doing some late-night grocery shopping this week. Ugh. To think I left Wauseon for this.”
Your tree has memories of when it was a strapping fir in the forest
Unfortunately for you, the tree you purchased is not willing to go along with your proposed "holiday maintenance" program.
"No fucking way I am drinking tap water with that disgusting 'Tree Stabilizer' added to it," your tree said, crossing its longest boughs in defiance. "I hope to God one of these light strands has a short, so my dry tinder catches fire and the entire house burns down. Or that maybe one of those curtain-climbing little freaks of yours decides to play with matches near me - pfoof! Merry Christmas, you bastards."