Opinion: Fuck You, You Absolute Fucker — Guest Opinion by Your Dad Trying to Hang Icicle Christmas Lights

Alright, you fucking shitheads. You pieces of fucking garbage shit-fuck. You absolutely diabolical, fermented excuse for human shit-fuck excrement. Christ almighty. Every fucking year you dangly fucking light-daggers find new ways to fuck with my ALREADY FUCKING FRAYED grip on reality, well you ready?! You ready to go again, you little fuckers, let’s DO THIS!

Here we shit fucking go again with the stupid goddamn icicle lights. You just love being the bane of my entire fucking existence, dontcha ya little asshole! The wet, sloppy shit-fucker cherry on top of this dogshit, frostbitten clown-parade year. Goddamnit! Every last one of you little bulbs was designed in a lab by GOD just to FUCK WITH ME, weren’t ya?! 

Yeah, here we go, I’ve been dreading this fucking day every second of every fucking minute of every godforsaken hour for the last twelve Christ alive months! The moment when I climb up on this rickety, old-as-dirt, five years past retirement ladder, begging that it tip over and finally STRIKE ME DOWN so I can be spared from the soul-obliterating task of hanging these goddamn icicle lights from these shitty fucking gutters, but fuck, let’s do this! Let’s do it for the GODDAMN kids and the GODDAMN neighborhood and the GODDAMN BULLSHIT facade that any of us even know what the FUCK we’re doing! 

Look at Jason down there. Barely holding the fucking ladder. He is just sucked into that goddamn iPhone. That goddamn shit-fuck iPhone we got him last year for Christmas! Oh yeah kid, have fun mainlining TikTok slop straight into his pea-sized fucking cranium, never mind keeping your GODDAMN FATHER ALIVE! You just keep being that hollowed-out husk of the lively boy who used to yell “Wait for me, Dad!” every time I left the house. Christ. We did it wrong. All wrong. 

Ted Kaczynski. Now there’s a man who escaped the trap. Bet there weren’t any fucking icicle lights in ADX Florence, eh Ted? What a dream.

Fucking fucker fuck. Okay, at least this year these bastards are hanging better than when I used to shove them under that piece-of-shit gutter guard. Carol may be a psychotic cyclone of HomeGoods bullshit, with the goddamn Christmas inflatable after Christmas inflatable and the whole fucking yard just completely taken over with every last tacky piece of christ-fuck holiday cheer she’s ever been able to fit in the fucking Subaru, but she did pick up these clips from Lowe’s. Okay. Just breather. Just get this task done, and she’ll come out here, look up at these stupid lights, give me a kiss, say thank you, and for one Christ-loving microscopic second I’ll remember why I put up with all this glowing holiday horseshit, and I’ll crack a beer, and everything will be nice. 

Holy shit, he’s not on his phone anymore. He’s looking up at me with that beautiful little face and holding the ladder like I asked, and now he’s saying, “The lights look really nice, Dad!” and now I feel like a complete piece of shit for all that angry crap I was thinking. What is wrong with me?! What is so god damned wrong with me that I can’t just enjoy Christmas like a normal goddamn person?! Christmas season. Goddamn fuckers. Fucking shit fuck.

And now they’re out again. 

Fuck!