Why I hate Christmas

Every Christmas you see all these drunk, well-fed people roaming about.

And I set my cold eye upon them, and get the size of them; and, behold, they are like in my eyes to a race of fat porcupines, waddling now this way, now that; and their prickly backs are anathema to all sensitive souls, they tear away the goodness of our silky hands; and it is not our desire but our primordial need to take flight from these bourgeois beasts, who eat and belch, become fat and make a stink; lo, they are an abomination, and I pray that the cries rather of the oppressed will be heard today, and that great calamity will befall all of these people who oppress those of us who are different, and deny us from reaping the fruits of talents, and steal from us while at the same time being bitter and envious of our special relationship with G-d.