Ho ho ho! Tis the season! Yes, that season.  The season where good intentions are merrily shoved down our throats, whilst we smile vacantly like Donny or Marie Osmond in our itchy sweaters that were crafted the year you were born by your ever-anticipatory aunt who has been waiting for this, your twentieth Christmas, since before you were out of the womb.  What a lovely season.  Of course, as a Jew, I will take part in none of these festivities.  Instead, I will be hiding deep underground, along with all my other cultist brothers, doing the things we Jews do: making bagels, doing taxes, using the blood of children in our unleavened bread.  You know, the usual.

This isn't to say we Jews don't know how to party.  We've got our own celebration, Channukah, aka. Hanukkah aka. Chanuka aka. Chanukkah aka. Hanuka aka. Hanaka aka. Haneka aka. Hanika aka. Khanukkah aka. The Festival of Lights.  Regardless of whatever insane way you choose to call it, it's best known as a holiday which encourages eating fried foods, gambling, drunken singing and fire. Oh yes, the fire. Delicate, flickering flames which lick the air around them, blazing beautifully in a fiery dance, beckoning for you to touch them, play with them, press their warmth against others, including the family cat. Beautiful, beautiful fire...I'm sorry, where was I? Ah, right, Channukah.  If it's not a party, I don't know what is.

Some might try to compromise the two largest gift-giving winter holidays, Christmas and Channukah, into one name.  That name is "Chrismukkah."  These people are idiots as Channukah is the celebration of kicking gratuitous goy booty in the name of *not* being assimilated into another culture.  So to try and assimilate Channukah into Christmas is, in a word, stupid.  And I don't care how many handsome T.V. actors on overrated soap operas in which mid-twenties individuals pretend to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed high school students ( even though stubble is *clearly* visible on their face) tell you it's cool.  It's not.  Don't do Chrismukkah.  Or else...

So, yes, it's a very divisive time, December.  I'm not even going to go into Kwanzaa, just because, you know, I have a life and such.  So, you might be wondering, what does the title of this piece have to do with anything? Well, I'll tell you, simply, in small words: Presents.  The one thing that joins Channukah and Christmas together is that everybody gets presents.  Which means you, you poor slob, will have to figure out 1) What everybody wants 2) Where to get these things and 3) Damage control when you fail miserably and give them a lame present, hastily wrapped at the last minute (and it'll show, believe me).

Well, if you're young you don't have to worry about much.  Generally, your parents will buy the gift, buy the card, do the wrapping etc.  Your sole job is to scrawl your name cheerily onto said card, to show you truly care about that person for the 5 seconds it takes to write your name.  Later on, once you've developed the gross motor skills to buy things yourself, you can generally get by with the following:

- Eternal Love
- Eternal Devotion
- Eternal Love and Devotion
- A Drawing/Poem/Song.
These gifts are pretty much ideal as they cost very little, except your pride.  Ah hell, who needs pride anyway? You'll probably want to have a death grip on this concept of gift-giving, and keep it up as long as humanly possible.  I managed to get away with it even in my senior year of high school.  If I Can Do It, So Can You!

But, alas, all good things will come to an end, and sooner or later, you're gonna have to face one of the greater perils known to man: Christmas Time Shopping.  You might think that, this being the season and all, people would be kind, courteous, loving of their fellow man.  In which case, what rock have you been living under, and is there room for one more? The real world proves to be just as, if not more, bloodthirsty during December than any other time of the year.  Every parent or responsible adult is all out looking for THE PERFECT PRESENT for that CERTAIN PERSON and they'll be damned if they let you/a widowed mother of two/their own grandmother/a kitten get in their way to getting that present.  It's not unusual, during this time of Christmas cheer and goodwill, that people are stabbed festively with sharpened candy canes because they just took the last "It" item in stock.   Yes, it truly is a dangerous time.  But worry not friend, I am here to aid you.  First, it's time to figure out what to get your giftees.

The key here is to be subtle.  Do not barge in there, grab your potential giftee by the collar or neck or ankles and hang them out of a window, then yell profanities at them, slap them about a bit and ask them what they want for Christmas/Channukah.   No, that simply won't.  You'll have to make it sound as if you couldn't give a damn what they want, as in this example:
You: "So, what do you want for Christmas/Channukah? Not that I give the remotest shit."
Them: "Who are you? How'd you get into my house?!"
You: "Your front window was carelessly left broken."
Them: "My front window wasn't broken!"
You: "It is now. So what was it you said you wanted?"

Remember kids: It's best to catch them by surprise.  That's why black clothing, a ladder and a glass cutter are your best friends.  They'll have no trouble recalling what they want for their gift as you loom over them in their beds.  Gesture wildly with your glass cutter for even better results.

If for some inconceivable reason this method doesn't work, barge in there, grab your potential giftee by the collar or neck or ankles and hang them out of a window, then yell profanities at them, slap them about a bit and ask them what they want for Christmas/Channukah. Guaranteed to work.

When purchasing a gift, you need to be smart.  Shop around.  Compare prices.  Be sure that what you're getting is the highest quality for the best price....
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Of course, I'm kidding.  As if you have that much time.  You're obviously buying your gifts at the last minute, or you wouldn't even be reading this, you poor sap.  Besides, if you waste time "shopping around" and "comparing prices" for the "highest quality for the best price," somebody's gonna swoop in there and buy your precious gift while you're staring thoughtfully at price tags!  You don't want that to happen do you? DO YOU?! Yeah, that's what I thought.  So get moving! Rush into that store! Elbow slower/older shoppers out of the way forcefully! Use your shopping cart as a roadblock! There's no time for subtlety and grace when presents are involved.  KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL!!!

Oh, wait, did I mention that all the presents you wanted to buy were all sold-out yesterday? Silly me.

Yes, the odds of you getting these presents, unless you pre-ordered them at birth, are slim...eh, why give you hope...none.  You have no chance whatsoever.  So, guess what? It's DAMAGE CONTROL TIME!! Half-assed gifts, here we come!! Hmmm, what do we have here at our friendly convenience store that'll make alright gifts? Hey! Big Red chewing gum! Who doesn't love Big Red?! And lottery tickets! If they get lucky, it makes up for your lameass gift many times over! And a gift card for Big & Tall.  Who cares if he's skinny and short, he'll appreciate the thought, right? RIGHT?! And...and...and...hey, how about a delicious salad?  That's what the sticker says it is, a "delicious salad." Interestingly enough, the sticker also says it expired back when the internet used dial-up.  Ah hell, they'll forgive.  'Tis the season! Hahahaha! Okay, now just purchase your hastily-selected gifts, throw 'em in the back of your manly pickup truck (if you're a woman, you did the whole "pre-ordered at birth" thing).  Screw wrapping.  It's not like it matters anymore.  No amount of tinsel and colorful paper is going to save your ass.  Just accept your fate, and move on.  

Yes, truly this is the season in which, statistically, the majority of suicides occur (stupid snow) but that's no reason to fret! You've still got a reason to live: Next December, in which this hellish cycle of pain and suffering will begin anew.  Doesn't that just put a spring in your step and a song in your heart? I thought not.  Well, good luck anyway.  And have a merry "Chrismukkah"....or else.

Ho ho ho.