Well, I cannot click onto any form of social media without seeing a post about this GD Target Christmas sweater. So here’s another one for ya.
First off, I completely subscribe to the theory that none of us have the authority to dictate what is offensive to another person or not because policing somebody else’s feelings is just not cool. Hey, let me tell you how you should feel about racism said the white male.
But I also subscribe to humor in every situation. Even funerals. That being said, I do not find this Target sweater mocking my disease to be humorous.
The reason I do not think this is funny is because it is not. And this is not because I am offended by it. I just do not think “Obsessive Christmas Disorder” is clever. I would not even give this a pity chuckle if this was said to me in a social interaction. And this has nothing to do with being offended. I just cannot relate to the comments of those in favor of the sweater claiming that it is “hysterical” or “LMAO worthy.” Maybe my sense of humor is more advanced. *Humble sigh.* But, if this is any indication of your type of humor I feel sorry for those who interact with you on a daily basis. Since I chose not to associate myself with people who are terribly unfunny, I can only imagine what it is like to be inundated by mediocre memes and Dad jokes.
If you were wearing this sweater at an Ugly Christmas sweater party, I certainly would not care to converse with you. And again, this has nothing to do with me taking offense to your tasteless humor. This has to do with the fact that you are double fisting Miller Lite while attempting to teach everyone how to whip. It’s your rant about Donald Trump making delicious points at the GOP debate. It is your theory that Dane Cook is about to make a comeback in comedy. It’s the moment you hold mistletoe over your head and make smooching noises to your buddy Josh and then exclaim “No homo!” It is when I overhear you tell the host of the party that the queso tip is “tight”, but not as good as the kind you buy from Costco. It is the time of the night when you dare yourself to chug the rest of the egg nog and ask someone to record it on Snap Chat, only to end up spit-up burping it onto your stupid f**king sweater that you purchased from Target for this exact occasion so you could prove to everyone within reading distance that you have an insanely stupid, not even remotely clever, sense of humor. The reason I am not talking to you is not because your clothing choice offends me. The reason I am not talking to you is because you are a douche bag.
Here’s to you, Target! You drunken asshole at the Christmas party nobody wants to take responsibility for. Thanks for being complete morons. You are really terrific at it.