Have we ever stopped to really appreciate how incredibly stupid the 12 Days of Christmas is?
Let's walk through these day by day.
A partridge in a pear tree. A partridge makes a fine meal, and there is probably some combination with pears that would be delightful. What your girlfriend doesn't want? A bird she needs to kill, clean and dress. And a fucking tree.
A partridge in a pear tree. A partridge makes a fine meal, and there is probably some combination with pears that would be delightful. What your girlfriend doesn't want? A bird she needs to kill, clean and dress. And a fucking tree.
Two turtle doves. These birds are literally good for nothing. You can't eat them, they don't sing and they are a boring, ugly grey. "Hey honey, I bought you a potato sack that shits. Merry Christmas!"
French hens. In a rural setting, this is probably a decent gift. Whether it's for the eggs of the meat, a chicken is at least a somewhat utilitarian gift.
B-, would give to side chick, but not true love.
B-, would give to side chick, but not true love.
Four calling birds. Maybe enough with the birds, Romeo? These are like the doves only they are also loud. I'm thinking that the true love is starting to worry that maybe you aren't the romantic she was hoping for.
Five golden rings. Now we are getting somewhere! Finally, a perfectly acceptable Christmas gift that any woman, or man for that matter, will appreciate. Well done, True Love!
Oh, we're back to the birds, I see. Frankly, those three chickens you gave us on Friday will probably meet our egg requirements for a while. A half a dozen geese is going to create a whole lot of goose shit and a lot of excess eggs that no one wants.
What the fuck am I to do with seven swans? They won't even get out of the fucking pond! This feels like you forget to a gift today, looked at the pond, saw some swans and told me they were the gift. Seriosuly, if I get one more fucking bird, I'm taking my gold rings and leaving.
Milk maids? Showing up with a team of young farm girls is the strangest way that anyone has ever suggested a threesome.
Day Nine: Oh, you've taken me to a strip club to see the ladies dancing.
Bold play, young sir. Bold play, indeed.
Bold play, young sir. Bold play, indeed.
In the history of Christianity, billions of people have made billions of gift requests around Christmas. I'm highly confident that not a single one of those lists included "a team of titled nobility jumping around my living room"
You can't gift people, it's against the law. I feel like I should have noted this three days ago. Maybe all of these pipers aren't so bad, but I can't even hear them over the sound of fat leaping lords. I think I am going to throw some excess Goose Eggs at them so they'll leave.
Just a bunch of dudes drumming on their drums, man. May as well give her a toddler equipped with a steel drum. If she still marries you after this, there's something really wrong with her...
So, to recap, you've left her with a 23 piece band consisting of just drums and flutes. A 19 person dance troupe made up of strippers and guys from a Broadway revival of Robinhood. 8 hot single women that smell like dairy cows...
Five rings that are the only salvation from this fiasco and now fewer than TWENTY-THREE birds that we can eat if we are willing to slaughter them ourselves or change our diet to include 85% eggs. Oh, and a fucking tree.
