There’s always “The Christmas Shoes”

The real question isn’t whether or not “Wonderful Christmastime” is the worst song McCartney ever wrote, it’s whether or not “Wonderful Christmastime” is the worst song anyone ever wrote.

When I was 20, I was working at a bookstore and living with my boyfriend, who also worked at the same bookstore. It was a small bookstore, with only 7 employees and when the holiday party rolled around we all went to a bar in Montouk and proceeded to get ripped. I had lost track of my boyfriend and started to make out…

This story coincidentally is one of the memories I am going to get EMDR for soon, so I can Men-in-Black that shit from my brain.

I MADE A BURNER FOR EXACTLY THIS PURPOSE.

Magic Nursery Babies were my jam. They came with this diaper that dissolved in water, and inside was your babies birth certificate that told you its gender and name. Every once in a while it would tell you your baby had a twin, and then you could send away for a free doll. I was fucking obsessed.

My Teddy Ruxpin got left out on the patio during a rain storm and would randomly yell out garbled messages IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I locked it in a bathroom once because I thought it was going to murder me.

It was all about the Puppy Surprise. There were tears when I only got 3 puppies as opposed to the much desired 5.