What You Should Get Me For Christmas (If You Never Want To Hear From Me Again)

Beginning in October, my family starts bugging me for Christmas list items. I'm not complaining, mind you, but this year I'm having a bit of trouble coming up with things I really want. In case any of you were wondering, here are a few things NOT to give me out of the kindness of your hearts. Seriously. Send money. Send kind words. Send a pipe bomb. ANYTHING but these.


The "No Sex 'Til Six" Clock

Personally, I don't even know who this clock was meant for. But it sure as hell ain't me. If it had been, it would say "no sex until six" and there would be nothing but 3's around it.

Finger Nose Hair Trimmer

I'm a firm believer that no one should buy another person a regular nose hair trimmer unless they specifically ask for one, and even then...eeewwww. So let's add insult to injury by making the trimmer look like a finger. Hahah! At least they could've gotten a better nose model than this one. It looks like they bribed a 72-year-old hobo with an airplane blanket and a box of wine.

Smencils



Smencils didn't make this list because they are scented pencils. That actually sounds kinda fun. Smencils made the list because someone named them Smencils. They had the envious assignment of naming scented pencils and all they could muster up was Smencils. Probably the same geniuses who brought you Smens, Smarkers, Smighlighters and Smite Out (although I sorta enjoy the biblical undertones of that one.)

Nope...It's Soap


Me: It's crap!
Them: Nope...it's Soap!
Me: No really, it's crap.
Them: No, try it, it's actually soap.
Me: I get it asshole, but it's still crap. It's a crappy idea and it's not funny. I mean...you're all idiots! Who would buy this? Nobody! Because it's CRAP!
Them, sniffling: It's soap.

The Complete Manual Of Things That Might Kill You


I already have this online. It's called WebMD. Every time I use the symptom checker, it alerts me to something catastrophic that's happening to my body, like my torso is gradually turning inside out, or my temporal lobe is developing nipples.

The Boyfriend Pillow

Honestly, this has to be the most depressing item ever made. You might as well send someone a thousand cats, a copy of Love Story and a shotgun.