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I'm Finally Feeling Festive

This morning, as I went through the motions of my morning commute and waved to the pair of rodents sixty-nining in my apartment’s vestibule, I caught myself walking to work with an unusual pep in my step. Who was this chipper little fella taking over my deteriorating, sleep-deprived body? It was a cold and dreary Wednesday in the miserable trashtopia of Midtown Manhattan, but it may as well have been a sun-soaked summer Saturday in Sarasota. Why? Because today is an exceptionally special day for people in any part of our country. I’m talking, of course, about the fact that it’s National Peanut Butter Fudge Day. 

I know this because my new favorite website, the National Day Calendar, told me so. What does this mean for Americans? Well, for 24 hours, we have a legitimate excuse to gluttonously shovel copious amounts of geometrical sugar butter down our gullets under the guise of “celebrating a holiday.” My European readers might be thinking to themselves, “that’s fuckin’ mental” or “any random wanker can make a shitty website and come up with these rubbsih holidays,” and they’d be absolutely right. But honestly, who cares? That’s what makes our country better and cooler than yours. Our fullest grown adults are still treating "National Peanut Butter Fudge Day" with the same enthusiasm as a Fourth of July celebration or Thanksgiving dinner. 

That's what separates the Geraldines of the U.S. from the grandmas overseas — our nation's elders actually know how to promote happiness and encourage pleasurable festivities. And guess what, you moderately-fed cunts from across the pond...tomorrow is National Gingerbread Cookie Day. 

Never mind the fact that we already have an entire holiday season dedicated to gingerbread cookies only a month from now. Tomorrow, on November 21st, we’re force-feeding ourselves and our fluffy children an excess amount of those specific cookies, as opposed to the other types of cookies that we typically eat and feed our kids on a daily basis. Not just because a poorly-coded website told us to, but because we can. That’s the beauty of being an American. We have the freedom to blindly do things like that without worrying about the repercussions until we desperately need to go to the hospital. Oh, and can you guess what yesterday was? 

National. Carbonated. Beverage. With. Caffeine. Day. Try to stop chewing and burping for a couple seconds and say those six words out loud without feeling like you could waddle through a Twix wall. I mean this in the nicest and most complimentary way possible, but I’m imagining the creator of the National Day Calendar website being an absolute tub of lard who just cackles maniacally in the corners of his (women can't be fat and gross) room as he invents an entire "holiday" based on drinking lots of soda and literally nothing else. A real Jabba the Hut looking motherfucker, just oozing all over every square inch of his California King-sized bed and rubbing his six pack of FUPAs while he updates his outdated website to convince the nation that they should drink even more Mountain Dew than usual. 

Unfortunately, November 23rd will take a dark turn for us fun-havers in the land of the free. 

It was almost like our king's live-at-home nanny suggested that he should “maybe make a couple of the holidays semi healthy so people don’t get too suspicious,” and he was like “whatever” and reluctantly came up with "National uhhhh Eat A Cranberry Day" and "National Sardines Day." Then he was like “fuck this for sure” and compensated by giving us National Cake Day and National Bavarian Cream Pie Day, back-to-back. 

National Cake Day. Something that probably could’ve just remained as a synonym for “birthdays” was generously turned into an entire twenty-four-hour period of celebrating absolutely nothing by eating cake. No strings attached. And if you didn’t know how exactly to go about observing this holiday, then our beloved website lets you know:

Just eat cake. That's it. And do you wanna know how to observe Bavarian Cream Pie Day?

Just eat Bavarian cream pie. It's that simple and brilliant. Sure, there's a zillion different websites like the National Day Calendar, and a few of them will tell you that today is some type of pathetically lame holiday like "National Transfer Money to Your Parents Day."

But for those of us who see the glass half full of high-fructose corn syrup, we'll be celebrating with peanut butter fucking fudge, just like our forefathers intended it to be. 

I wouldn't necessarily call myself a "xenophobic bigot," because I don't know what either of those words mean, but I couldn't imagine living anywhere else in the world and still thinking I mattered.