Playful, elegant, and not above the judicious use of the word “shit."

Why I Like December

Only seven more months until summer.

Dooce also begins with a D.

I don’t know anyone with a birthday in December, and so I can’t forget any of those birthdays.

Those mittens without fingers.

The bounteous multitude of green M&M’s.

In the spirit of the season, my sister usually forgives me of my sins and lets me hold her babies.

Babies.

Exploitative Baby Gap� ads.

Disturbing claymation Christmas specials.

All that snuggling.

Every movie studio releases all potential Oscar contenders in one short two-week span. It’s like a national film festival right at your local film house.

I can call anyone a Ho! and no one will think I’m doing anything but spreading holiday cheer.

I’m reminded annually that I never have to take another mid-term or final examination ever again for as long as I motherfucking live.

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