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I Put Together My Own Grown-Up Christmas List

Welcome to our Christmas show, a Christmas gathering with my son and daughter where we’ll reflect on the meaning of Christmas, look back on Christmases past, and just basically say the word Christmas as often as we can in the hope you’ll buy our books so we can take the rest of the year off.

You know, just the other evening, I was sitting here by the fireplace, drinking eggnog and eating Christmas cookies, and wondering whether to induce vomiting or simply lapse into unconsciousness. And I was listening to a radio tuned to the North Pole so I could hear the elves playing their magical rendition of “My Grown-Up Christmas List” — that song where a woman goes to see Santa Claus and asks that wars will never start and right will always win and who knows what other nonsense. And I felt so inspired because I thought to myself, you know, if crap like this can get airplay every Christmas, I could probably just smack a squealing piglet with a trash can lid over and over and call it a Christmas song and make a fortune.

So I decided that I would put together my own grown-up Christmas list, because by that time, let’s face it, I was pretty much drunk out of my mind. And I thought if I could sit on Santa’s knee without someone taking a video and selling it on Only Fans, I would ask him to make the world a better place, maybe by installing ejector seats on commercial airlines so that any moron who listened to his iPad videos without using a headset could be instantaneously jettisoned through the top of the fuselage and sent plummeting at terminal velocity through 34-thousand feet of terrifyingly empty space with just enough time before impact for him to reflect on the mind-boggling level of rudeness he’d displayed and why he actually deserved to be departiclized in the most painful possible manner a dwindling number of seconds after he came to realize the error of his ways.

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On my grown-up Christmas list, I would wish that every braindead college student who supported the Palestinian monsters who slaughtered innocents and then cried boo-hoo-hoo when they got the shellacking they so richly deserved, every journalist who whined about the first amendment, then approved of censoring Americans on social media, every public official who closed churches for no reason or coerced people into receiving injections they didn’t want, every commentator who minimized the Biden family’s vastly corrupt history of influence peddling that so, so obviously included the semi-sentient mannequin who’s pretending to be president while leftist zombies dismantle America — I’d wish that everyone who did those things and then had the unmitigated gall to pretend that it’s Donald Trump who’s the threat to democracy? Would wake up to find themselves co-starring in the latest Democrat congressional gay porn video along with a rolled-up tube of Donald Trump’s Truth Social posts because even though I’d never watch something like that, people could tell me about it, and I would laugh and laugh.

And finally, on my grown-up Christmas list, I would wish there could be a Magic Christmas Explanation Fairy who would fly from place to place explaining things. Like, she could explain to establishment Republicans in government and the media that, yes, Trump’s behavior is appalling, but people only voted for him because you establishment types suck…. She would explain to Vivek Ramy-swamy and Nikki Haley-Whaley and what’s-his-namey-wamey the fat guy that they are never going to be the Republican nominee for president so they should go home and let people decide whether they really want more Trump or might prefer the empty space with zero personality who actually knows how to do stuff…. And she’d explain to the guy falling to earth after being ejected from the plane for not using a headset that it’s also rude, not to mention disgusting, to talk on the phone while you’re in a public restroom so he actually deserves to hit the earth twice.

And that’s my grown-up Christmas list. And also that wars would never start… although really what the hell does that even mean?

What a stupid song.

* * *

Andrew Klavan is the host of “The Andrew Klavan Show” at The Daily Wire. He is the bestselling author of the Cameron Winter Mystery series. The third installment, “The House of Love and Death,” is now available. Follow him on X: @andrewklavan

This excerpt is taken from the opening satirical monologue of “The Andrew Klavan Show.”

The views expressed in this satirical article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.

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