Tuesday, December 27, 2016

oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree

How lovely are your branches, especially the day after Christmas when I see you on the side of the road barely inside the largest trash bag that family owned.

What did these evergreens ever do to you?
I don't get real Christmas trees now. I get them back before artificial trees, I guess. (Not really, but I'm going to pretend I do for simplicity's sake.)

Here's what I don't get about Americans choosing real trees over artificial trees (which are more green, contribute less to global warming and CO2 levels, provide habitat for all sorts of critters and look real nice in a forest).

Xmas is supposedly all about love and and light and life, unless I misunderstood that part. So...let's everyone go cut down a tree (it wasn't doing anything to you, by the way) shake out all the things that lived in it, bring it into your house and plant it in a modified vase like a really, really big flower ridiculous looking flower. Then, you will put all sorts of decorations on it, because naked trees are shameful and disgraceful. Once you open all the presents under the tree (you can't open presents unless there is a real tree who died for your sins), then we take it out, even if it still looks good, and throw it like rubbish on the curb.

Sounds like a bum deal to me. Cold and heartless. Good thing trees don't have feelings or emotions. Cause if they did...well, let's just most people would enjoy Christmas a little less than they do now, with the trees begging for their lives to be spared and the constant low level hum of despair as our real trees count down the days as they slowly die in our house. Or even better, the screams and cries of agony as they await their doom on the curb. Or in a fire.

You are all monsters.

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