On the first day of Christmas

This is based on a false story.

I am sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, watching the football game I TiVoed last night. It's the Christmas season, and my life is perfect right now. I can't get over how great things are for me. My life is fantastic. Just as I think that thought, my true love, the reason my life is so terrific and happy right now, walks into the room carrying a large box.

"How ya doin, darlin? Guess what today is?" my true love says to me.

"Tuesday." I respond.

"It's the first day of Christmas!"

"Well, shucks golly. It is! It is the first day of Christmas!"

"And I got you a present!"

"Baby, you are amazing." I say to her.

We share a long, passionate kiss. I can't imagine being happier. As I walk over to the present, I think, to myself that I couldn't be a luckier person. I have had my ups and downs through my life, but I honestly know that this is my true love.

We met in Atlantic City. I was at the hotel bar, drinking my usual drink of scotch and water, when I saw her standing across the room. She was wearing a red dress, standing by the jukebox, singing along to the music. And I was taken aback. I had never seen anyone so beautiful. I'm not usually the most outgoing person, but I had to talk to her. I finished my drink, and I walked across the hall to ask her for a dance. And I don't even know how to dance, but I had to dance with her.

We've only been together for six months, but I know that she is my true love. Some things you just know.

"Open up your present!" my true love says to me.

I wonder what the present would be. I needed a new phone, so perhaps she gave me the RAZR V3, or the new Sidekick. Or maybe she gave me a Microsoft Zune. They did have a sale today. Oh, what am I saying, it's only the first day of Christmas. I can't expect too much. I stop thinking about what the present was, and just dig in,, I tore open the wrapping paper and opened up the hole punctured box. My true love gave me...

"BAWK!"

...A partridge in a pear tree.

A bird inside a tree that grows pears.

A tree that has pears and a partridge hanging from the branches.

I look at my true love. On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree.

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe this is happening! What a dumb bitch. What a dumb bitch! A partridge in a pear tree? Are you fucking kidding me? I can't text message my closest friends with a partridge in a pear tree. I can't play the latest music and video on a partridge in a pear tree. What can I do? I can eat pears stained with bird shit. Nice.

"I don't think we can see each other anymore." I say to her. I put on my coat and walk out of the apartment.

I guess she's not my true love after all. True loves should know what items, electronic or otherwise, their loved one wants. True love isn't buying items that have no value whatsoever. Sure, those pears may be delicious, but they are completely tainted by the patridge, which may or may not be carrying bird flu. Did she have the partridge checked? How am I supposed to know that it's healthy? What if I get Asian Bird flu and die? I never want to die, but I know that it will eventually happen, and I always imagined that my death would be grand and heroic, like I would go out fighting some type of dragon. I do not want to die because I got sick by hanging out with a fucking bird.

What if the last piece of food I ever have is a pear with a giant white shit stain on it? What if I ate these shit pears, and then died suddenly from Asian Bird Flu. The only thing that's possibly worse than that would be if I had a bowl of Cheerios with no milk, and then a tiger ate me as I stepped out of my apartment.

This is the worst present ever.