BE EXPLODED AND DIE
Frankly, Xmess is the least of our worries. Welcome to Armageddon! Again! (We've got more apocalypses up in here than a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon.) But really, with the world FINALLY going kablooey this week and with everyone suffering a fiery Mayan death of horror, you'd think it would lighten up our schedule just a teensy bit, now wouldn't you? Give a girl a couple of days to paint her toenails and catch up on Weeds a little on Netflix? And what a fucking relief, right? (Honestly!) But nooo...
A VERY ALAN THICKEMAS!
Well. Here we are, supposedly all exploded and vaporized and perhaps alien-enslaved or what-have-you (and with janky toenails and WAY behind on Weeds still, to boot!), but I guess it's time to face a harsh truth: Those Mayan bitches were full of shit. Christmas is still coming at us like a bullet train on Vaseline stilts, Republicans still exist (God effing damn it, really), and I'm pretty sure global warming is still going to kill us all, yes, but oh... so... much... more... sloooowllyyyy. (Dear asshole Mayan calendar-makers: REFUND PLEASE!) But let's look at the bright side, which is this: A Very Alan Thickemas. A VERY ALAN THICKEMAS! HA! What a wonderful and ridiculous thing to help one appreciate the continuance of all life on earth.