Once My Looks Go, I've Got Nothing

Christmas is a time of family, traditions, family traditions, and the looming specter of insurmountable debt. And nothing shrieks "tradition" like Christmas music, which has not evolved one bit in hundreds of years, give or take. In my family, one of our annual Yuletide traditions was listening to the album Christmas Comedy Classics , or Triple C if you're of the Guy Fieri school of thought regarding abbreviations. A collection of humorous holiday favorites, this compilation got innumerable spins on our CD player, which was a new technology at the time. And to be honest, I was never sure whether or not I liked it. I found some of the songs hilarious, some of them annoying, and most of them either depending on my mood. As such, I decided it was time to take a look back at this album now that I'm a Big Mature Adult and determine once and for all whether Christmas Comedy Classics is overflowing with Christmas cheer or merely a lump of coal being pounded into your ea

             He came in that night, same as any other. Sat down on that green stool in the corner, the one with the big tear right down the middle that exposes the white fluffy stuffing inside, wisps of it sticking out like the hair of an elderly clown. He likes that one stool in particular. Says it suits him.      “You made it just in time,” I said to him with a smile. “Fifteen minutes until the ball drops.” As ever, my smile was not returned.      “Just give me the usual,” he grunted, scratching the top of his head. “And spare me the ball talk.”      I grabbed a frosty pint glass from beneath the bar. As I raised it, tiny pinpoints of light twinkled along the surface, reflections from the multicolored Christmas lights still strewn around the bar. There was no point in taking them down until January at least; hell, I thought, I might just leave them up all year ‘round. Might brighten the place up. I filled the glass to the brim with the cheapest beer we had on tap, a bi