The Two Thousand Twelve Days of Christmas
A much-needed revision to the outdated gifts from the Christmas classic. Hell, even a song about gifts in 2005 would be long obsolete given our demand for the latest in supply.
A much-needed revision to the outdated gifts from the Christmas classic. Hell, even a song about gifts in 2005 would be long obsolete given our demand for the latest in supply.
From Betsy Haynes, critically acclaimed author of a bunch of dumb shit my girlfriend reads, comes this chilling thrill ride masterpiece of absolute crap from the year of our lord, 1994.
Being white, handsome, and taller than most locals, being disguised as Super Mario made me the most talked about item in Korean history.
Finally, we can enjoy the fall of North Korea, another plethora of "I Voted" stickers, and the most highly publicized apocalyptic failure in history. You're alright, 2012.
Even as kids we knew Santa couldn't get us everything we wanted. So today, 28 PIC writers gather to unleash their personal "shit they know they're not going to get" lists.
My name is Copernicus Thunderbird, and we're all fucked if Christmas goes down the way I think it will. What you need to understand is that the Kardashians are going to destroy Earth.
As I stood in the woods digging the hole to bury the old man, I realized he wasn't quite dead. And that's when he told me a story of Christmas I'll never forget.
Things I want for Christmas: Jeremy Sisto's voice, Leonardo DiCaprio's hair, Karen Filippelli (assuming she's still single), Gift cards, Maybe some DVDs, Robert Downey Jr.'s aura.
A true revelation occurred when a friend said, "Dude, you're wearing jeans and a red flannel and you have a huge beard, why didn't you just do Super Mario?"
Speaking of Halloween costumes, it's kind of my favorite thing to come up with, especially phallic puns. This year I've decided to go as Premature Ejaculating Santa.
Holidays are supposed to be wondrous occasions to celebrate, but for the most part, a few come to mind that should be abolished and permanently etched off calendars worldwide.
2011 has the potential to be great. But first we need better WikiLeaks, another apocalypse, a rehabed Lindsay Lohan, and the death of Betty White.