Merry Christmas, cruel world.

Honey, please. Those shorts are making the baby Jesus cry.

Merry Christmas from that dork who works at the bookstore and always tries to engage you in conversation just because you’re a girl and *surprise* you’ve both read Harry Potter. This is what he does on Christmas. He reads the dictionary alone.

Uh…ok. Let’s go with the turkey this year. Whatever, I don’t care about my reputation.

This holiday season, why don’t you show your family that you have no idea how to use a computer, and that you have issues with spatial relationships?

“See these kids? I made all these kids. With my sperm. My champion sperm. This car too.”

I have zero idea what crickets playing cricket have to do with Christmas. As much as I love the British, they don’t make sense sometimes. I suspect the that Blitz had something to do with this, as well as hard drink and falling on your head a lot as a child.

Some of you might say “AWWWW! That’s so cute!” But you’d be wrong. Because the wages of Star Wars are HORROR!!!!1

“Oh hi! Didn’t see you come in! I was just singing a Christmas carol with my remarkably pale wife with dead eyes!”

FIVE GOOOOOLDEN RINGS! Four calling birds, three French hens, two calling birds, and a dude with no muscles in his leeeeegs….