On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… a double CD of all my "favorite" Christmas songs, which of course includes "The 12 Days of Christmas." I hate that song.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… She knows I don't have a CD player any more. Not even in my car. What am I going to do with a double CD? At least I have an excuse not to listen to that song.
On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… I mean, how do we even get to the third day of Christmas anyway? Christmas is one f*#king day a year. One. If you want to count Christmas Eve, I guess I’ll let that slide, but that’s only two days at the most. This isn’t Hanukah we’re talking about, and even if it were, Hanukah is eight days. And believe me, Hanukah fans aren’t going to be excited about something that advertises 12 days, but only delivers eight.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… if she gives me four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge, she also better give me that signed pre-nup I’ve been asking her for.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… and how many novelty versions of this song can we hear? The writers of these songs all think that theirs is absolutely hilarious; that we gladly listen to their kooky take on the classic Christmas hymn all the way through. But the “funny” versions are even worse than the original. Come to think of it, I bet I haven’t heard the original version in 15 years. But there’s certainly another uproarious knockoff coming up right after this commercial break.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… a night on the town, and I am getting HAMMERED.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… it is New Year’s Day and I am hungover. How about a bottle of Advil and a trashcan next to the bed because there’s no way I’m stumbling to the toilet every time something comes back up today.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… eight maids a-milking? You actually got me eight maids a-milking? Wow. That’s pretty remarkable. And they didn’t come with any cows, which makes them, like, way better. I don’t really know what to say. Thanks, babe!
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… nine ladies dancing?! Are you serious?! You’re incredible! I can’t believe you’re ok with this. Come again? Yeah, no you’re right – the song’s not so bad after all. I mean, it’s long and kind of annoying and most of the gifts are pretty awful if you think about… you know what, you know what… you’re right, you’re right. It’s a great song. It’s a fantastic song. Could you move a little to the left? Thanks.
On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love… that’s ok, I’m gonna stop you right there. You really shouldn’t invest any more in this relationship. After the last two days, there’s no going back to “us.” You won’t be able to recover from what’s gone on, and I don’t have it in me to try to cover it up, so let’s just go our separate ways before you get hurt.
On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… a threatening text message. But I can’t worry about that now. I need to get a hold of a real maid. Like an actual cleaning lady. Preferably an undocumented one because this place needs to be hosed down by someone who knows what they’re doing.
On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… a puppy. Which is totally her way of getting back at me because I asked for a food processor.
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