Now that the holidays are over and I'm finally out of my alcoholic and sugar cane-induced comatose state, I think it's time that we actually discuss our holidays.

You go first......

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.......mmhmm..... (nods)

........................ah... I see....

mmmmmmhmmmmm........ (nods again).....

BUZZZ!!!

Times up. You'll have to save that story of what crazy Uncle Wallace did with the hollowed out corpse of a turkey next year.

For me, the holidays were about one thing: That special gift. You know how every year you have that one special gift that you'd do anything for your parents to get you? You would lie, cheat, and steal to have them get it? You might even possibly kill to get it?

Well... that's kind of fucked up. And you put way too much emphasis on possessions. Because that's all they really are. Just useless objects that you'll forget next year when Christmas comes rolling along and there's something else that you just HAVE to get.

Anyway, I had one of those gifts this year. All year long, it's all I talked about. I'd always bring it up whenever I could: Family dinners, random e-mails, phone calls at 3am, etc.

You see, the trick is to pound it into their heads until they get the point that if they don't get you this present for Christmas, they're going to be hearing about it for a whole year.

"Man... I sure am glad I got these knee-high socks. Not as nice as that other thing I wanted, but these are nice. Especially if I want to... keep my feet warm or.... suffocate myself while I masturbate."

So after finally accepting the fact that no matter what the price is, they have to get it anyway, your parents cave in and buy you the present.

Before you know it, it's Christmas morning. You run down the stairs (Or in my case, up the stairs, since I slept in the basement.... alone.... thanks to the pest control guy). You gaze upon the vast horizon of packages and stockings and shit. And you look. And you look and look and look until you spot that package that's just big enough to be your package. Just to be sure, you check the tag on it to see if it has your name on it.

It does!

You wait as patiently as you can while your younger siblings and relatives open their packages first (We go by age in the family, which usually places me fifth).

Finally... It's your turn. You sort through the smaller packages, politely saying thank you to whatever it is. It may be something that you really do like, but at the moment, that isn't your worry. Your worry is that big package staring you in the eye.

Slowly, you walk towards it. Your parents smile as you lay your hand upon the green and red wrapping. You clothes your eyes, take a deep breath, and then start tearing the shit out of the paper. You pull and tear and tear and pull and finally... you hit a cardboard box. So you slowly start to pull the tape off of the box and open it, and...... There it is. The one thing you've wanted all year. And it's so beautiful and... tears form at your eyes. You look at your parents and for the first time, you sincerely thank them. You thank them from the bottom of your heart. Because you only wanted this one thing, and you GOT IT! It's finally yours! What once seemed unobtainable is now the obtained!

You have your very own personal hooker!

Yes, you go through the documentation, making sure that your hooker has had all of the proper shots and is in fine health. And of course the first thing you want to do is try it out. But you can't just do it right there in front of your parents. No, not even if you ask them to turn their heads first. Proper etiquette says that you always take your hooker out of the room, and preferably to a deserted part of the house. Hooker's have performance anxiety their first time out, and you want them to be as comfortable as possible.

You take your new personal hooker up to your room. She will plop herself down on the bed and, between chewing gum and looking bored, ask for the money. So you of course fork over the dough ($300 in "Hooker Money" that came with the packaging). Now don't be stingy, give her the whole amount. Make her feel like it's worth it. Besides, as soon as she falls asleep (With the aid of her "medication"), you can take the money back. Don't worry, she won't notice.

You discuss what you want with your hooker, and then it's magic time! Lay back and enjoy the ride, because the hooker will take care of everything. Yes, you will experience pleasures that you would've never though possible. And the best part is: You know you're the first, and you know you're going to be the last. An odd sense of empowerment takes over you. Suddenly, you are in charge. And the hooker knows this (It was in her training). After you climax like a manly sort of man, take the extra $50 in "Hooker Money" and give it to the hooker, if you feel like buying yourself some cuddling time.

Then, it's into the cage with the hooker. The last thing we want is a hooker on the loose, running around, seducing grandpa, isn't it?

After the hooker is put into her spacious cage, it's time to feed her. Give her one of her designated "food pellets." But only give her one. Nobody likes a chubby hooker!

The large water bottle inside of her cage will provide all of the liquid refreshment she needs. And the giant wheel and tubing system will keep her occupied for hours on end. And speaking of water, don't forget to put down her wood shavings so she has a place to "go." And don't forget to change the shavings at least once a week. Do whatever it takes to make sure your hooker stays a happy and clean hooker.

Now, you might be asking yourself, "What if the hooker dies?" Well that's a very good question. In the case of a hooker dying (Such as you left for vacation and forgot to give her a weekend feeding pellet, or she got into her "medication" stash and OD'd), have no fear. There's a program set up for just an event. Simply take your hooker and place it inside the "Hooker Return Program" plastic bag. Ship it back to the company immediately. If she was still under warranty, they'll ship a new one out immediately. If she was passed warranty (Or was killed due to consumer mistakes), a discounted program is still there to help you out.

Yes, the world seems to be a much brighter and magical place when you've got your very own hooker.

So... basically... That's what the holidays mean to me. More or less.