Fa-la-la-la-la-get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way!

Some people call this the most wonderful time of the year. They'd be bald-faced liars who deserve to burn in the hottest part of hell for, well, forever.

It's not the 14.01 billion renditions of Jingle Bells by everyone from the barking dogs to Andy Williams that makes me crazy.

It's not the nuclear holocaust colored store displays.

It's not the overabundance of smarmy goodwill and cookies.

No. It's the people.

I don't like crowds. I don't like people just randomly milling around, or moving at the speed of dark. I hate craaaaaaafty people (and you can always spot a craaaaaaaaaafter too. They're the ones in the sweatpants and sweatshirt [homemade, of course] or velour tracksuit [in red-hat colors] whose ginormous asses block entire aisles, and their hideous cackles shred eardrums at 40 paces), and I hate the whole "I must have this thing, and I must have it right now and I will kill you if you look askance at it!" thing. And lets not even discuss the mall, shall we?

Every year it becomes a bit more of a challenge. I do sometimes enjoy the physical process of shopping. Looking at items, making a mental inventory, and matching my friends and loved ones special interests to one fabulous gift. Birthdays? LOVE shopping for Birthdays. Christmas? I'd rather slit my wrists with a broken gift card. Shopping online isn't really an option, because I still have to do physical recon before I can order. And that? Means going out. In the people. And very well risking either a complete mental breakdown, or an episode involving an AK-47 and a water tower. Both would get me 302'd, but one would probably get me released for good behavior without having to be someone's bitch.

I'm considering taking the easy way out this year. No, not gift cards... doing all my shopping at the Liquor Store. Who's in?

Heh.