Right now, millions of you have gathered together with family and friends to laugh and sing and exchange gifts around the Christmas tree. And it's on this day that Cracked.com would like to take time to say you need to put a stop to that shit, right now.
Throw that fire hazard back in the woods and keep your socks on your goddamn feet.
The war on Christmas
See, for years Bill O'Reilly types have been talking about a "war on Christmas" and while we haven't taken the time to research the details, we want Bill to know we are ready to join that war. Tell us what we need to do, Bill. Meet us in the parking lot -- we're here with switchblades and baseball bats, and one dude brought a spear gun (Ha-ha! What the fuck, Steve?).
Seriously, it was kind of funny when he brought that ax to the bake sale, but now we're a little freaked out.
We're ready. Everyone is drunk, fists raised, steel clinking against steel. Santa Claaaaaauuuussss! Come out and plaaaaaayyyy!!!
When our crew rides on Christmas, it's gonna wish it had kept its head down like Arbor Day. When Santa drops into our house, he gets treated like those robbers from Home Alone. If he slides down our chimney, before his toes touch logs he's gonna feel a steel-toe boot to the dick.
Nothing says Christmas like claymores by the fireplace.
What's our beef with Christmas?
The fact that you even have to ask means you should call your health insurance company and warn them that they're about to run out of health insurance because you're going to use it all. Clearly, the holiday has become too commercialized -- if an alien landed on Earth today, he'd report back that Christmas was a celebration of Las Vegas-style blinking lights, angry drivers and gift cards. The soul is gone; it's not like the simple, down-home Christmases we remember from our childhoods in the late 1980s.
It's time for a new holiday, a simpler holiday.
A malt liquor holiday.
The date: Dec. 28.
Why that date? That's the date our book, You Might Be a Zombie and Other Bad News: Shocking but Utterly True Facts -- containing 18 articles you cannot read anywhere but the book, plus illustrations by Web comic luminaries like Nedroid -- is unleashed on a materialistic and unbelieving public, in fulfillment of the ancient prophecy.
Ia! Ia! Cracked fhtagn!
Now, we are not saying that Crackedmas is based entirely around the purchasing of our book, or that we have been vandalizing Christmas decorations for two weeks just because our book happens to be coming out on a different day.
No, the holiday is when you read our book. You can purchase it right now.
Crackedmas is about coming back home on the 28th, exhausted, having endured a long Christmas weekend with your in-laws and hours of pissed-off traffic ... then seeing a little brown cardboard box the UPS man left leaning against your door, knowing that it contains more hours of joy and laughter than even the most loving family will ever, ever be able to provide you (320 pages worth).
This, on the other hand, is amusing for roughly seven minutes.
If you didn't have the cash to pre-order before Crackedmas, well, that's what this so-called "Christmas" is for -- you invariably received or will receive money or gift cards from some family member who either didn't feel like shopping or has no clue what things you like. As long as it's more than 10 or 15 bucks, you can basically get our book for free. There is mathematically nothing you can spend the money on that, dollar for dollar, will bring you more pleasure. You will look on that aunt or cousin in a new light, as you realize that they accidentally gave you the greatest gift any human has ever given another.
Yeah, good call on the murder-wagon there, asshole.
Maybe you got a Kindle for Christmas. Perfect -- this will be an excellent way to put that shit through its paces. Are you a rebel who opted to get a Nook instead? No problem; you can be reading us within seconds once Crackedmas arrives.
If you insist on flipping through a physical copy before you part with your cash, for fear that we just filled the 320 pages with crude renderings of dongs (something the publisher actually killed at the proposal stage), then you'll need to spend some time in a bookstore. But if you're a dude, be careful -- when the girl behind the counter sees you buying the Cracked book, primal mating instinct will take over, and she will dive across the register and reach frantically for your junk. If you're a woman, she will try to murder you out of jealousy.
The point is, we're not telling you how to celebrate Crackedmas. All people should, according to their own beliefs, decide in what exact format they want to enjoy You Might Be a Zombie and Other Bad News: Shocking but Utterly True Facts, and which retailer they want to purchase it from.
As for those of you who still believe in Christmas, who believe the day is sacred and are uncomfortable with the fact that our crew has beef, we respect your opinion. But you need to respect our position, which is that we're published writers now, which means 1) we all have beards, and 2) we are fighting drunk all of the time. That's literally what being an author is.
Finally, we can write off all our drugs and firearms as business-related expenses.
So Santa? Rudolph? Frosty? And those bastards who make those giant red bows they put on top of the new cars that those douchey young couples get for each other in the Lexus commercials? It's Crackedmas Eve Eve Eve, and you need to watch your ass.
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