THE HOLIDAY SEASON is a time for reflecting on the good things in your life: your friends, your family, LaMarcus Aldridge (and the possible existence of his dog LaBarkus Aldridge, which is an idea I totally came up with). However, amid all this mindfulness, I think it's important to also think about the things you truly hate, which is why I present my second-ever Kvetchmas column.
(Complainoween for the gentile motherfuckers, even for you gentiles who are like, "I'M ACTUALLY NOT A JEW, BUT LIKE, I CONSIDER MYSELF AN UNOFFICIAL JEW, LIKE, I LOVE BAGELS AND SEINFELD." Hey. Everyone loves bagels and Seinfeld. Go to church. I should've saved this for one of my complaints.)
So gather up your bitterest friends, order a charcuterie plate, crane your neck to make sure nobody can hear you, and fucking complain. The only rule is you have to own it—don't make it a conditional kvetch. You don't need to say "first-world problem." Your cat eats better than your immigrant grandfather did, so we know you live in the "first world." I encourage you to spend 167 hours this week considering your inherent privilege, but for one glorious hour, feel free to sound off about iPhone batteries and cold-pressed juice prices and your friend's weird dog and Drake (IT BETTER NOT BE DRAKE) and whatever else might be bothering you. I'll start:
STEAMPUNK: Did you know that people are allowed to practice medicine, adopt children, and run for political office, even though they're steampunk? Isn't that fucked up? I'm dubious of any lifestyle that hearkens back to a bygone era, but steampunk wasn't ever even an actual era. As far as I can tell, steampunk is what would happen if the Industrial Revolution was mostly about goggles. Why are all of you wearing goggles? Stop living in the past, right now is so much better than the past. The only thing that's better about the past is that at some point during the past, steampunk didn't exist. I want to cosplay in an era where everything is exactly the same as it is right now, except there is no steampunk.
OH, THAT'D BE SUCH A GOOD BAND NAME: No, it wouldn't.
WINE: I don't get it, fam. It all kind of tastes like fucked-up juice to me. I've had hella expensive wine served to me in weird-ass alchemy-looking MFA-final-project glasses, and I've had wine that literally cost less than bottled water—like it was crafted by some kind of reverse Jesus—and they pretty much tasted the same.
NO, SERIOUSLY, THAT WOULD BE A GOOD BAND NAME: Stop it. When someone utters an atypical arrangement of words, somebody PROBABLY WEARING AN OFFICIAL GUINNESS BRAND NEWSBOY HAT, has to be like "Oh, that would be a funny band name." No, it wouldn't, and even if it would, shut up. "That would be a funny band name" is the comedic equivalent of the internet's obsession with bacon, or 2004's obsession with Napoleon Dynamite. It took something that was kind of fun and mostly harmless, then kept repeating it over and over and over and over again until it was acrid room-temperature garbage water. Also, the only thing that would be a good band name is "Megadeth." There's a band named Megadeth. I don't even like their music, but they got together and were like, "Hey, you know what would be a good band name?" and then every ghost joined together in an unholy voice and shrieked, "Megadeath!" and then Dave Mustaine, in the only 30 seconds he spent on this planet not being awful, said, "What if we spell it Megadeth?" That's the only good band name.