Jason: You ever wonder if we’re having too much fun?
Jeff: Are you high? It’s Mellowmas. No, jerkoff. I never wonder that.
Jason: I mean, clearly there’s some reason we keep coming back to this holiday, right?
Jeff: For me, it’s 50 percent guilt over the emails we get all year wanting to make sure there will be another Mellowmas, and 50 percent just wanting to hang out with you.
Jason: I’m kind of sad it’s not at least 40/60, but we’ve been doing this for a long time now. So I’ll settle for half.
Jeff: You know, it’s really more like 95/5, but we have to put up a good front for the readers.
Jason: Anyway, I’m just thinking about these songs we hear where these artists are so happy…and they shouldn’t be.
Jeff: …Why shouldn’t they be?
Jason: Because their songs are terrible.
Jeff: I mean, I’m not saying any of them are talented, but they’re doing what they wanted to do.
Jason: I guess that’s true. And that explains why our friend James Wynbrandt was so happy, right? Despite the fact that he was singing about being homeless this Christmas?
Jeff: Or at least they think they’re doing what they wanted to do. *pinches bridge of nose* I’m so tired at this stage of Mellowmas. Also, I’ve gotten to the point where my spine literally tingles with dread whenever you say the words “homeless” and “Christmas.”
Jason: I was just thinking…what if they handled that subject…seriously? Like, DREADFULLY seriously?
Jeff: If they did it far away and I never had to know about it, I say sure, what the hell! More power to them. Goodnight!
Jason: Get your kimchi-filled ass back here. I’ve got something you should hear.
Jeff: You don’t even.
Jason: And I’m pretty sure that after you hear it, we’re going to move down to at least 70/30.
Jeff: You seriously found yet another song about being homeless at Christmas? How are there so many songs about being homeless at Christmas?
Jason: Jeff, I give you a song with a title that truly rolls off the tongue.
Jeff: Like vomit, no doubt.
Jason: “Mr. Holiday Presents How’s Santa Gonna Find Them”
Jeff: Nope, not real.
Jason: It’s even more confusing if you pronounce “presents” like it’s a gift.
Jeff: This is all a hoax. Mellowmas has been canceled, right? Where’s Allen Funt?
Jason: Because guess what? IT’S NOT A GIFT.
Readers, you may want to get comfortable. We’re going to be here for a little bit.
Jeff: Is anyone going to stop this from happening? Please?
Jeff: Ah, a mournful acoustic guitar. So far, so good.
Jason: Not a bad opening. Gentle.
TONIGHT THEY’RE IN A SHELTER ‘CAUSE THE BANK TOOK BACK THEIR HOME
Jeff: And here we go.
Jason: Merry Fucking Christmas!
Jeff: HIS MOMMY’S UP IN HEAVEN, JASON. AT NIGHT HIS DADDY SOBS.
Jason: He rhymed “sobs” with “job.”
Jeff: HE HEARS HIM PRAYIN’ TO THE LORD TO HELP HIM FIND A JOB
Jason: He’s watching from a soup line.
Jeff: This is a kick in the nuts for Christmas. You’re a sadistic bastard.
Jason: This song should be call and response. Like he asks “How’s Santa gonna find them?” and someone yells back “GPS!” “Google Maps!”
Jeff: That crying vibrato the singer has is a perfectly shitty touch, too.
Jason: “Homing pigeon!”
HE SOLD THE WATCH
Jeff: Dad pawned the watch Mom gave him before she died!
Jason: HE SOLD MOMMY’S WATCH, THE SON OF A BITCH
Jeff: It was what he had to do.
Jason: Mom gave another gift! I know where THIS is going!
Oh, wait. No, I don’t. I’m very, very wrong.
Jeff: “It Hurts To Pee on Christmas” is the follow-up single, I think.
This really might be the worst thing I’ve ever heard.
Jeff: If I ever meet the people responsible for this song, I intend to shake them.
Jason: He just talked about Dad falling asleep. I could have sworn the next line was going to mention carbon monoxide.
Jeff: AND WE STILL HAVE MORE THAN THREE MINUTES TO GO. YOU FUCKING FUCK
Jason: “I’d love to see Dad wearin’ it, celebrating Christmas day.” Wait, I missed the line before. What is he wearing? Please say it’s mommy’s underwear.
Jeff: A noose! Oh wait, that’s me.
Jason: I’m down to 80/20, aren’t I.
Jeff: This is the “November Rain” of horrible Christmas songs.
Jeff: Oh good, Christmas is finally here in the final verse.
Jason: No note! No milk! No cookies!
Jeff: Please let it be the final verse.
Jason: Now he’s even more confused! Not a present nor a stocking was left under that fuckin’ tree!
Jeff: A present ON THE HALLWAY FLOOR
My dog does that sometimes!
Jason: Jeff. WHAT IS IN THE BOX.
Jeff: Is it the watch? Is it Mom’s head?
Jason: I hope it’s both!
Jeff: Baby Jesus’ placenta?
Jason: Oh shit!
Jeff: Never have I more eagerly awaited the end of a Mellowmas song. Not one damn time.
Jason: Look, I feel for the homeless this Christmas. And if you do too, here are some things you can do. But I do NOT feel for Mr. Holiday.
Jeff: That was seven minutes of maudlin misery, and everyone who touched it between the writer’s diseased brain and the distributor should be punished to the fullest extent of the law.
I include you on that list, by the way.
Jason: This guy tried to out Christmas Shoe “The Christmas Shoes.”
Jeff: I might sue you.
Jason: You had this coming. You know you did.
Jeff: I’ve never done anything to deserve this. Oh, look! It’s the guy who wrote this dumpster fire.
Jason: Look, I’d love nothing more than for you to not come back tomorrow.
Jeff: Spoiler alert, you already know pretty much exactly what he looks like.
Jason: I’d love nothing more than for all of our readers to not come back tomorrow. But you all know you’re coming back.
You’re like us. Addicted. Broke. Without watches.
Jeff: Sobbing at the table.
Jason: How’s Mellowmas gonna find you?
Jeff: Homing pigeon? Bounty hunter?
Jason: I’m at 90/10 now. I can feel it.