Merry Christmas, here's your crap.

Seeing as I'm poor, dollar store gifts are the gifts my loved ones are getting this year. Like they have every year since I left home. And you know, people open up something completely cheap and generic, like a bag of $1 pens, and say, "COOL! Pens! I can really use these! Thanks!", just the same as they say when you buy them a Ferrari. "COOL! A FERRARI! I CAN REALLY USE THIS!". Yes. They do. If you'd like to confirm, just send me a bag of pens. And then send me a Ferrari. You can film my response. I will make good use of your Ferrari. You can come too, but only if you're under 28, male, and reasonably good looking.

I had $40 to buy gifts for the family. I did go kind of out on my brother's gift. We used to have this dog, and he was like, the coolest dog ever. And my brother, bless him, always talks about how much he fucking hates dogs. We grew up together, this dog, my brother, and me. Yet, the young Loos does not really appreciate dogs at all. "Dogs are stupid. Dogs are hairy. There is hair on my leather jacket. How does hair stick to a leather fucking jacket? Jesus Christ, I hate dogs. They are so stupid." He talks about this dog incessantly, though. "Remember when Skipper used to do this? Remember how terrible he smelled? Remember the car trips where he stank so fucking bad that you couldn't breathe?" "Dude... that was you." "Oh yeah." So when I was wandering by the Brandy Tree and saw a tiny ceramic border collie that looked pretty much identical to our deceased canine brother Skipper, I had to pick it up for my brother's new apartment. This way, some day when he has kids and they say, "Daddy, can we get a dog?" and he gets all grumpy and retorts, "No. Daddy hates dogs", "Well, why do you have that ceramic dog then?".... (*ten minutes of brother fighting with future children here*) "MOMMY! We're getting a dog!". And then he'll call me and tell me how much he hates me, and I will know that I never really drifted apart from my baby brother. Or something like that. I'm all about the Christmas spirit. Really. For real.

That came to $17, so I was one quarter way done my family and half way out of money. Shit. I can't give out details here because of some of the readership, but I used the remaining $20 rather well I think. (The extra $3 bought two rolls of wrapping paper at Dollarama. And some cellotape).

Which brings me to another point. Dollar store cellotape is terrible. And you cannot buy it in any smaller quantity than four rolls at a time, it seems. I have had to re-tape these presents three or four times now. The first hour they actually looked good, and then the glue FAILED. So now there's about fifty layers of dollar store cellotape on my terrible, ghetto Christmas presents and they look like they were wrapped by drunken elves on LSD. So, Dollarama - this is my proposal. Instead of selling me four rolls of subpar, shitteous cellotape that DOESN'T FUCKING WORK, how about you sell me ONE roll of GOOD tape that gets the job done right? More good tape for the Jenn, fewer plastic tape holders to cause pollution for Mother Nature. *high five* (Or are you using all your lead to make those plastic tape holders?).

And Dollarama, while you're at it - please PLEASE please for the love of God - make the aisles wider at freaking White Oaks Mall. I may not be the cleanest person in the world, but when you start to smell funkier than a dollar store, you should probably stay home and shower instead of going to the dollar store. You are permitted to smell equally as funky, but NEVER more funky than. Never. And while Billy Bob over there is perusin' ta find some o' that thurr unda-ahm dee-or-door-ant on the top shelf, the place is getting exponentially more funky. Do you understand how allowing people in the dollar store to smell even funkier than usual will offset the funk to not-funk equalibrium? Do you understand that if you let one smelly person near another smelly person, they will be like "maybe I'm not so smelly. One more day!". Okay, maybe just in my head. But you should consider free underarm deodorant at the door. And make your fucking aisles wider so I don't have to be subjected to it so directly.

And have a separate check-out line for little old grannies who want to chat up the salesperson, oblivious to the fact that there are fifty people behind them in line. And don't let people hand out religious crap in your store. I came here to get some cheap Made in China wrapping paper so I can wrap mass-made in China plastic crap in order to celebrate the birth of Jesus, not to worship him or anything. Gawd.

How about you write and pass out an Etiquette Guide for the Individual at the Dollar Store. Here is a potential outline of chapters you could go with:
*Saying "Excuse Me" Before You Ram the Cart into Someone Else's Backpack: A General How-To Guide
*The Creditors Will Still Call Regardless of Whether You Buy That $3 Deodorant
*How to Purchase Stuff Before You Consume It: if I see your stupid ass walking around here with a half drunk Coke that I know you haven't paid for, I'm going to assume you're a fucking moron. The kind who's mommy comes over and launders his sheets. When he's 38. *fake English accent* "I just can't wait two more seconds to enjoy that Cokely goodness! Ah, isn't it refreshing to drink a nice bottle of Coke while I do my Christmas shopping? Such a jolly good day, yes?" ... DIE.

I love Christmas shopping.

Another point: I have this vintage wool coat, it's fushia with geese on it. People either really love it or really hate it, there is no middle ground. While I was waiting for the bus the other day, a giant bird took a giant shit and it fell on my goose coat. The rest of my day followed suit. Awesome.