Quote of the day

I hate buying gifts. I hate shopping for them, even online, which requires only that I click a mouse a few times, maybe fill out your address. NO TIME FOR THAT SHIT.

But you will find, as I have, that the older you get, the more fucking gifts you have to buy for people. I am thirty-two years old. I have two kids. They go to birthday parties for all the kids in their school class, which is a lot of kids. I have two siblings who also have two kids each. I have friends with spouses and kids and all that shit. All of them have birthdays and anniversaries and all kinds of other shit I'm supposed to account for. Not to mention the standard holidays like Mother's Day, Valentine's Day, Polynesian History Hour, and such and such. I could fill out a calendar will all of these "important" events and not have an empty week. Which means I'm buying gifts all over the fucking place.

If you're over the age of 22, you don't deserve gifts for your birthday. Ever. Maybe you get one of those annoying group dinners where everyone splits the fucking bill except for you. And then one rich asshole at the table fucks up the cost average for everyone else by ordering the 15 lb. lobster. But a gift? That I have to wrap? Fuck you in the pants. I knew chicks in New York who always threw themselves birthday parties, expecting everyone to bring them a present. Eat shit, honey. You'll get nothing and like it.

You shouldn't need gifts as you get older. There comes a point in life when gifts stop being useful. I have enough shit laying around. I don't fucking need more of it. The only gift I could ever possibly want is money. Unfortunately, I don't know enough Italians, so I never get it as a present. I get shirts. Oooh, loogit! Something I have to dry clean!

The older you get, the more expensive life becomes. You have to pay for housing, and food, and diapers, and life insurance, and all kinds of other god awful shit. There's NEVER enough money to cover it all, yet there remains this societal burden where we have to get people cards and gifts for shit that is irrelevant TO ME. Oh, your kid just got confirmed? Bully for him. I'm glad he's officially a righteous Christian fuckwit now. But I'm not going to bestow a gift on the kid for it. You know what his gift is? Jesus' love. Suck on that.

It's reached the point now where Mrs. Drew and I are forced to buy so many gifts for other people that we never bother to get shit for each other. Oh look. It's your birthday, honey. Here's an US magazine I stole from the gym. And I'm putting out tonight. You're welcome.

Drew Magary's Guide to Gifting. Go read it.