Children are still very, very stupid. Just ask their parents.

Christmas. A place for fans. A place where all Christmas lovers can sit around in a circle and talk about how rad Christmas is. A place similar to a group of people on acid. It's okay to believe that a very portly man can still wear red and not be employed as a Pro-Wrestler. A happy place where the sun always shines, and everyone can do cartwheels on command.

Like I said, Christmas is a place for fans.

Much like American Football, if you are not ready to hump the leg of Christmas once it breathes down your back, you just don't get it.

Yes, you. You are always the annoying person who sits there asking what is going on. You, always asking how to kick a touchdown. You, trying to believe that someone can really be so exited about underwear.

I enjoy this holiday a lot. I enjoy it because it is absurd. I enjoy it because it is funny.

Some dude (who was pagan) decided that trees would look better with stuff all over them. Dude A (as he will be called) may have gotten sick of his traditional forest scenery, and may have wanted to liven it up a bit. So, around came the time for good ol' winter solstice, and Dude A throws a bunch of pretty colored stuff on a tree and presents it to everyone as a good idea. They love it, and they all partake in the decorating of a tree of their own. Dude A becomes life of the party. Dude A gets laid. The creation of all absurd things come from someones inner desire to get laid. Look at emo music and tell me that someone's not trying desperately hard to get laid there.

If you look very hard at the traditions of Christmas, you will see that none of them seem logically related. Wrapped up power tools have nothing to do with the birth of Christ. Sure, some wise men gave ol' 'esus (short for Jesus) some presents, but they didn't wrap their gifts with Peanuts wrapping paper. They presented that shit straight up, no bullshit. Sure, 'esus made a killing that Christmas with the gift of gold and frankincense, but he got shafted with Mir. And at that very moment, the tradition of getting some weird ass thing for the holidays was commenced.

But that shirt covered in eagles that is too big for you still has nothing to do with the colors red and green.

'esus' daddy also didn't go nuts and erect a tree next to the crib to commence the holiday of lights.

The point is that someone came up with Christmas because they were trying to get laid. Christmas shares a history similar to the act of maintaining a lawn.

Think about the reasoning behind the first person to go outside and say, "I'm gonna cut this grass down really short and make sure it stays nice and green." Meanwhile, the area of his neighbors looks and sounds like Jurassic park, while father-lawn trims his grass to a length that remains more enjoyable to play in. In the end, his superior lawn is his own argument for his genetic superiority, and his best road to pooty-tang.

And in every little aspect of the holiday season, every time it becomes a new tradition to shop immediately the day after Thanksgiving, every time Mr. Griswold turns his house into a disco ball, there is a little inventor. An inventor with a crafty little brain coming up with the best new idea so he can play tonsil hockey with a team out of his league.

PART TWO CONTINUES SOONISH.........