A Very Tightass Christmas

Written by Eoinín McAlpine

Ah, Christmas. That special time of year that allows even the most vice-ridden soul to mask his or her rampant alcoholism under the guise of festive cheer. A holiday season where even the most soulless atheists sing cheery songs of the zombie lord Jesus.

For greedy little children, it means a swag of gifts they neither deserve nor appreciate in the days following the big day. For office photocopiers, it means a month of the threat of pressed Christmas hams and/or fruit baskets.

For the rest of us, it usually means spending a whole lot of money we don’t have on a bunch of gifts we probably don’t want to give. The good news is that there’s no reason for you to blow your Christmas bonus on a bunch of expensive crap.

That’s right. Ignore your pathetic government pleading with you to spend your way out of the recession. You can still give your loved and not so loved ones the hottest gifts this Christmas yet still have enough money left over to ply yourself with enough mulled wine to sink a ship.

An iPod

Oh, criminy. In the history of man, there has probably never been a more overrated device so prone to epic failure. That said, the great unwashed still possess an insatiable desire for these buckets of crap.

I’ll let you in on a secret – most people don’t want them to store music on. Even if they did, it would probably just be that bloody umbrella, ella, ella, ay, ay, ay song on repeat.

No, people want them for the headphones. White headphones are the status symbol for a generation of people that measure success on how many SMS votes someone receives. So if they want white headphones, give them white headphones.

They’re a fraction of a cost of an actual iPod, and unlike an iPod they will almost certainly last until next Christmas.

A Nintendo Wii

Ah, the Wii. Not willing to accept that they peaked with Super Mario Kart, Nintendo go and release a console and work out session all in one.

With their innovative “wands” that allow the user to play both real sports (tennis) and flimsy excuses to drink beer disguised as sport (ten pin bowling), the Wii has got a generation of morbidly obese tweens off the couch and using their arms for something other than stuffing their fat little faces with more chocolates and chips.

That’s all well and good for Joe Disposable Income and his four car garage, but the rest of us blue and white collar slaves, we can’t be shelling out hundreds for something these tubby little urchins will probably grow tired of in five minutes or break somehow with their flabby arses.

So put away your wallet and give the offspring a gift your olds would have been proud of – the threat of physical violence and/or denial of meals if they don’t do what you say.

Put something active on the telly – a triathlon, rock climbing, or perhaps even an ultimate fighting championship held in a cage of death. Give the kids their special “wand” (the remote) and tell them to emulate the characters on the screen or else they can kiss their beloved cheese-stuffed potato croquets goodbye.

A GPS Unit

Brilliant. Just when detachable stereo faces were almost forcing car thieves to get real jobs, someone comes up with the idea of leaving giant suction cups on windscreens that may as well say ATTENTION: EXPENSIVE GPS UNIT IS JUST A BRICK THROUGH THE WINDOW AWAY.

Unfortunately, it would appear that our education system has failed and the ability to read a map has been confined to the too hard basket, presumably along with birth control and basic literacy.

So why not give a gift that serves society AND helps someone negotiate that confusing route to the corner shop? Give them the all new Hobo GPS unit.

A recession brings with it an abundance of vagrants – obtain one for a small fee, wrap him in Christmas paper along with a pen and paper.

All the recipient has to do is plot their course before they leave home (you can do this on a computer if a map is too troubling), then give the written directions to the hobo. Seat the hobo in the front passenger seat and pay him a nominal fee to call out the directions as you drive.

Brilliant in its simplicity, an iota of the cost of an actual GPS unit, and very unlikely to draw the attention of car thieves. Throw in a club lock if there is a high rate of hobo theft in your area.

And so ends our guide to budget presents. Merry Christmas from the cretins at the Mobar Gazette. Stay tuned for the detailed report on the predictable debauchery of our office party, which will almost certainly conclude with Logan Bluetooth defiling Peter File’s desk in some horrible manner.