I like analogies. If you’re good at them [and so few people are] chances are I’ll like you. the Mistress is pretty good at them, one of the many reasons that I enjoy her ever-increasing company. Sadly, many people really suck at them, I mean … wait, what was the original point of this post?

Oh, yeah! Christmas! The other day I was talking to her about how I really don’t like Christmas anymore. The holiday itself. I enjoy Christmas music, buying and wrapping presents, decorating and baking, but when it comes to the day itself I am inevitably disappointed. I can’t help it. Whether it’s the family yelling at each other like common inmates (though, I earnestly believe inmates may be better behaved than the Mykal Bloom family) or not talking to each other and gossiping acidly behind each others’ backs, holidays aren’t usually a happy time. Which makes me think, how many of those fondly-regarded Christmases of my youth actually sucked monkey balls, and I just didn’t know it? How many brutal family arguments did I miss because I was so engrossed in my Power Rangers action figures? (Rita <33).

So, now that I’m older, I’ve just come to not anticipate Christmas. Of course I buy presents. Jesus knows I’m always prowling for any excuse to recklessly throw cash away. And yes, I blare my Mariah Carey “Merry Christmas” album, and I absolutely lurve to bake Christmas cookies, but Christmas just isn’t . . . exciting anymore. Perhaps it’s just another depressing reality of getting older, but in all honesty, I’d rather have the music and cookies and skip the holiday itself.

And when explaining all of this to the dear mistress, she retorted curtly, “Dude, you like Christmas. That’s like saying, ‘Oh, I like to suck dick, and I like it up the ass, but I’m not gay.’ No, fuck that, you like Christmas”

If only that were the case.