Some words of holiday advice:
1. You can survive your fucking annoying family. And if they piss you off too much, just remember that one day they will be dead.
2. Don't drink and drive, 'cause that shit's for amateurs and assholes. Stay at home to tie one on; why do you think Thanksgiving's an all-day festival of football, parades, movies, dog shows and marathons of classic TV reruns? It's a dazzling cathode ray cornucopia of stuff to keep the wasted off the streets and at home, puking, fucking and fighting right where they belong.
3. When seeing your old high school pals for what's probably the one time you'll see them all year, do not comment on how fat and/or old they look. That shit goes two ways, bunky...
4. If you must go to church during the holiday, make sure to go as hungover and reeking of booze as possible, that way next year they'll think twice before forcing you out of bed and into a place choked with incense and festooned with pictures of Jesus looking at your ass.
5. If your family gathering has a kiddie table, make sure to sit there and serve as a bad example to the next generation. Tell age-acceptable off-color jokes and stories. Teach the kids the lyrics to "The Diarrhea Song" (especially the version recorded by distaff punk/metal band Betty Blowtorch)and have them sing it loudly halfway through the meal. Introduce them to "pull my finger." In short, do your part to ensure your status as the fave older relative from the start; that way the kids won't feel so awkward in later years when they need somebody to take them to get an abortion or bail them out of jail without their parents being any the wiser. And believe me, they will pay back your "cool relative" kindness somewhere down the line.
6. Always, ALWAYS eat the turkey's tail. It's the perfect amount of dark meat, fat, and skin in one concentrated morsel and if slathered with the right amount of gravy it's a thing of joy forever (well, at least until it's digested and re-manifests itself as the next morning's enormous post-Turkey Day turd).
7. The true bombardment of Christmas-themed TV commercials commences right around Thanksgiving, so feel free to let loose with the Ribald Songbird action and desecrate the classic Yuletide tunes that have already been corrupted for TV adverts, only make them super dirty with usages of words like "cocksucker," "shit," and "pussy fart." Since you're gonna hear them a million times between now and the new year anyway, you may as well have some fun with them.
8. If you have to suffer through the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade — the Thanksgiving moment I dread most — don't try to be an asshole and bring to your aging parents' attention the fact that it's nothing more than a saccharine, three-hour commercial. They like it for the marching bands, big-assed balloons, and celebs lip-synching, and do not give a fuck about it's true purpose, so let them have their fun. And you can always have something to look forward to, namely the hope that the guy playing Santa at the end of the show will either be drunk or have a visible hard-on.
9. If you're staying at your parents' house with a significant other, try to remain as silent as possible if having sex under your folks' roof. I don't know why, but the idea of their kids having sex, even us grownup kids, seriously fucks with the heads of our progenitors. Then again, maybe you
should fuck like monkeys on crack while at home...Aah, what the hell? Make 'em remember how it's done! And if they bitch about it, remind them of all the times they nagged you for grandkids and ask them if they forgot where said grandkids come from. That'll shut the geezers up in no time.
10. If the friends and loved ones you miss most can't be there this year, think of them fondly and rest assured that they're probably every bit as miserable as you are.
And with that, Happy Thanksgiving, and may the pecans in grandma's cookies actually be pecans and not roaches. (She doesn't see that well anymore, you know.)
Yer Bunche, in the throes of enjoying his ongoing mutation.
Merry Christmas, dear Vaulties! Enjoy the feasting, the boozing, the prezzies, the fucking under the Christmas tree while dressed as the Virgin Mary and the black wise man, and most of all don't forget to pop a copy of the terrific SANTA'S SLAY (seen above) into the DVD player. The little ones will love it!
And they thought THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST was offensive.
I would like to thank my pal Chez for this one, a wee re-edit that will bring a smile to all my fellow Christmas curmudgeons.
As you probably already know, I fucking hate Christmas music. But what you may not be aware of is that each year I put together a CD of questionable Christmas fare just to get all the other endlessly-played Yuletide crap out of my head. Over the last week I've scoured my collection and as of yesterday afternoon I've narrowed down this year's "Christmas Evil" CD to the following candidates; there are some repeat offenders present, but oh those new additions...
Jodorowsky's THE HOLY MOUNTAIN: perfect change of pace viewing for the holidays!
So with that in mind, we'll soon cross paths again.
Some words of holiday advice:
"We cannot break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, you will play golf, and enjoy hot hors d'oeuvres. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They have said, 'Do not trust the Pilgrims.' And for all these reasons I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground. 
Man, I love fishing. If only I had the opportunity to do so every day...
And now for the song that should be our national anthem:
It's the 4th of July weekend and Yer Bunche has gone fishing, so stay safe and remember that shoving firecrackers, lit or otherwise, up your ass or any other such orifice is not a good idea.
