Itās beginning to look a whole hell of a lot like Christmas. Youāre welcome, bitches. What? You think the artificial snow spray on the window displays at Macy*s are starting Santaās sleigh? You think NPRās eclectic mix of holiday songs effortlessly covered by independent musicians imbues you with the yuletide joy? Think again, dicks.
Fact: I am the harbinger of the holidays. I am the Starbucks Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha. Forget those herald angels. Who needs silver bells when youāve got silver balls?
I am so tired of hearing people say they know Christmas is coming because they can āsmell snow.ā Thatās not snow, thatās the vapor precipitate of my bracing — yet sensual — flavor. My wintry blast of peppermint and white chocolate commune to create something bigger than all of us. The spawn of my rich flavor orgy is an annual celebration of peace, joy, love and commercial opportunity otherwise known as āThe Holiday Season.ā Youāve heard of Father Christmas? Well Iām his motherfucking Mother.
You think things were better before I started handling things? You prefer the traditional markers of the holiday season? Tradition is like wrapping paper from the dollar store: weak, impractical, and causes a ton of fights. Furthermore, is āCarol of the Bellsā going to give you enough energy to gift-wrap a 65-inch flat screen TV? Thatās what I thought. Iāll be there while you wrap corners and tape edges with the caffeine-induced precision of a Marine disassembling a rifle. Iāll be there, because Iāll be inside you.
It just makes sense. Iām a beverage — let this happen. Let me put the holiday spirit inside you with my delicious and warm liquid. What is your alternative? How else will you know the holidays are upon you? Would you want those holiday Gap ads where they chant āGo Christmas, Go Hanukkah, Go Kwanzaa, Go Solsticeā inside you? They taste like a headache.
Worse yet, do you even know how it feels to have Old Navy Performance Fleece inside of you? It doesnāt feel like Christmas, thatās for sure. Donāt make my nightmare your reality; choose the right commercial holiday product. Iām here to make sure you never have to find out what the color āpinklishā tastes like.
Iāve got about a million times the fan base and market share of any other Christmas icon. The Hess truck looks like a toy compared to me. Theyāre so foolish. Whatās the appeal for adults? Can they carry it around in one hand? Does it even smell seasonal? No, no it does not.
Donāt even get me started on the Rockefeller Center Tree. Really, do you want your holiday emblem to be an enormous fire hazard? Why donāt we just decorate a pile of crumpled up newspapers? And that tree is basically inaccessible for most people, while Iām on practically every corner. Literally, punch your arm in any direction and youāll end up with a fistful of Pike Place roast.
My only true rival in the game is Christmas Coke. Iām coming for you Christmas Coke. I hope those goddamn polar bears have your back. This is a new era where I, the Starbuckās Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha, stand alone as the official starting gun of the holiday season.
Like Bing Crosby, Iām dreaming of a White (Chocolate Mocha) Christmas. And soon you will be too. This is not a threat. Itās a fact. By the way, Rudolph is out of the picture. He was asking too many questions about my fat content. Don’t blame me, that asshole couldn’t help sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.Ā