When I was 9, in 1975, my Christmas delusions came crashing down with reality on December 23rd. My mother just found out that the breast cancer she had gotten the year before (during Christmas) had not receded, but had migrated to her fucking lungs. She would die 8 months later.

On Christmas Eve, our landlord stopped by and gave me a Lego box the size of a deck of cards. This was my only Christmas gift as we were truly ghetto. My father was across the street at the time, selling $150.00 worth of food stamps to the convenience store owner for $80.00 bucks so he could take a bus to the Los Alamitos race track and waste the rest on the four horse in the fifth.

My excitement over my box filled with 8 pieces of interconnecting plastic waned when I overheard our landlord telling my dying mom that we had 72 hours to leave as we hadn’t paid the rent for 3 months, and that we should check out the local park, as this was Southern California and the "parks were nice this time of year." My mom screamed at the landlord to get out, and when that bitch finally left, my mom started coughing up blood all over herself and me. (Nice vivid memory that still dances in my head from time to time as I drift off to sleep.)

Well, the next day, Christmas Eve, my mother left the house for St. Joseph's Hospital, never to return home, we moved out of the house, leaving behind the fake tree, and my sister in I were put into respite care (a nice way of saying foster care), never to return to our father (guess that four horse in the fifth didn't pan out for him).

238. Just another holiday alone (12/20/06) - Jessie, San Diego, Age 22

Here I am 23 years old, single and alone. I have spent my holidays alone for the past 4 years. I had to get away from a family that never got along. I had to go out and live life on my own. Hell, I did a good job at that. I married a man when I was 19. He became abusive and I never got to see my family. He kept me apart from everyone I ever loved. I left him and promised to never fall for anyone ever again.

Well, I fell for someone and told him my feelings just the other day. He turns to me and says that, Well, maybe it is time to spend time apart. I have never felt so alone. I have spent Christmas in the Gulf, then with an abusive husband, then the past two alone crying myself to sleep. I don’t have a family to go see, I don’t have a family of my own, and I don’t need a man ever again, but I hate feeling so alone. Christmas fucking sucks. It just another way to let you know how alone you are and you don’t have a family to go home to. Fuck this.

237. Another Christmas suicide (12/20/06) - Jane, Michigan, Age 49

I have very mixed feelings about Xmas. My dad was an alcoholic and most of the time when I was growing up he was actually fun and kind on Christmas Eve, when we would get our gifts and spend quality family time together. My mom loves Xmas and would go all out with decorating and baking and making ornaments with us kids. But there always was the threat of dad going ballistic and screaming and yelling and possibly beating us kids like he would do other times.

Anyway, for years he would get drunk and threaten to shoot himself, but not at Xmas. Obviously, not a good thing to do around children. He also had a fucked-up childhood (duh!) and was just passing it on. Well, when I was 35 he was wintering out west and the woman he was seeing at the time (my parents divorced when I was 23) dumped him on Dec. 24th. We thought they were going to Mexico for a week or two. Come to find out he hid his truck to make it appear to his friends/neighbors that he went to Mexico, but instead he shot himself in the head, we figure on Dec. 24th.

The bitch girlfriend never bothered to let anyone like us know he MIGHT be upset. I kept calling him leaving messages on his answering machine and never getting a call back. Finally my aunt and uncle who were wintering in a nearby state called the police and they found him dead in his house. My uncle called my mom, who then had the "pleasant" task of having to tell her kids their dad checked out of his own accord. This was on Jan. 5th.

236. Stay where you are (12/20/06) - Anonymous, Canada, Age 21

Christmas actually hasn't passed yet, it’s just a couple of weeks away. My mom recently started going through chemo for breast cancer and she's recently quit smoking. Also, she's always been known to over-worry and overreact about just about everything, so I'm sure that's had something to do with it.

Today was my last day of school and my parents were going to come and pick me up tomorrow. I'm in my final year of college and I don't think I've ever been this excited to go home before.

This morning, while finishing up my last assignment and getting started on wrapping gifts, my mom calls, which usually never happens because my long distance plan sucks ass. The first thing she says is “Would you mind if you stay there this Christmas?” I say that I do mind and ask what the hell is wrong. She just tells me it had to do with my brother and hangs up.

I knew she'd call back a few minutes later and sure enough she does. Now she's all upset and crying, saying that everything was fine until this morning. My brother (since probably before high school he's been smoking pot and who knows what else, and drinking with his buddies like every weekend) has been working hard at a co-op placement lately and making pretty good money, but apparently he's been spending it stupidly and getting into his one savings account that's meant for school. And she says that he's all “black and blue”, and I have no idea what the fuck that is about.

But yeah, basically that's what's going on, and my mom's probably using the idea of leaving me all alone for Christmas as a way to make my brother feel guilty; she's always been childish like that.

I just want to talk to my brother and see what the hell he's gotten himself into. I'm super pissed at my mom right now. I mean, like she doesn't realize that I feel like I'm being punished by being left here... ALONE for the fucking holiday, and she's talking about her and my dad kicking my brother out. But then again, she's made that threat before, to both my brother and myself.

Well, that's all from me for now. I need to start cleaning in case my parents change their minds and come to get me tomorrow.

235. Bogus Christmas bonus (12/20/06) - Bill, Philadelphia, Age 50

I was emancipated when I was sixteen (life in foster homes was never conducive to “holly jolly holidays”). I had a crummy little job that kept me fed and housed in a crummy room with a hot plate. I'd been working the night shift at a factory for nearly a year. We'd been working overtime to get the product out. As Christmas approached, we were anticipating our Christmas bonus. Some of the old timers told us that one or two weeks pay was the custom. We had been so productive, there were rumors of three weeks pay.

The excitement was great on Christmas Eve, as this was payday and bonus day. When we came to work, the management gathered all the day and night shift workers together. Everyone seemed so happy -- so this was what the holidays were about.

The announcement came across the loudspeaker. There was to be no bonus and we were all laid off. Some people cursed, most were just shocked. There were grown men crying. Then we were told not to all cash our checks at once because some of them might bounce. People were running and yelling, and the parking lot looked like the start of a NASCAR race.

I didn't get to the bank fast enough and my paycheck could not be cashed. I couldn't pay my rent and spent Christmas sleeping in my car. I lived for nearly a week in my car, not wanting to waste too much gas running the heater, and living on like 5 bucks, until I was able to cash my check.

I filled up my tank and drove to California. Figured if I was going to be poor and homeless, I didn't want to freeze to death. I lived and never went back to Philadelphia. I have had many Christmases since, some better, some worse. Every year at this time I become anxious and pray that it doesn't suck this time.

234. That wasn’t a candy cane breaking (12/20/06) - James, Georgia, Age 18

When I was 14 my mother married a fat, piggish looking man. It didn't last that long because they were both pretty violent drunks. Earlier that year he had locked my mother out of the bed room and she had kicked a hole through the door.

It got worse on Christmas that year. Once I had gone to bed on Christmas Day I heard yelling, which was nothing special, and I had learned to tune it out. But suddenly I heard a loud snapping noise and thought that they had just broken something. Well, my stepdad just storms past my room and locks himself in his. I hear my mom crying and screaming, and when I get out of bed to see, there's blood all over the floor and the bone of her leg is poking out of her skin.

I called the police and they took him in for 5 years and he's getting out next year. Fuck the criminal justice system. We lived with my grandma and my mom would constantly get drunk and fight with her, and bitch about how she can't get a job because of her “handicap.” My grandma was the only one who bought presents.

233. His last holiday bender (12/20/06) - Mark, Kentucky, Age 29

After three hours, his mother, my grandmother, went in to wake him up. She yelled for us to get in there, and we called the paramedics. He had 3 transdermal patches on (a strong painkiller) and stunk of bourbon. He was long dead, and the EMS people chastised us for not calling sooner, saying we could have saved him. They didn’t know he did this every time the family got together. Here's to a Merry Christmas.

232. Drunk driver killed mom (12/20/06) - Joel, Los Angeles, Age 35

My family celebrates Christmas on the eve, just to be different. In 1999 on the eve as we were opening gifts, I received a call telling me my mom had died in a car accident. A drunken college student hit the car that she, my sisters, and my niece were in. This girl had crossed over into the wrong lane of a two-lane highway and hit them head on.

My sisters and niece were fine but my mom took the brunt of the impact. Her ribs, lungs and heart were crushed instantly. After I got the news I couldn’t go on with opening gifts. I told my wife I had to go and left the house for the rest of the night. My kids didn't know until late the next day. I spent the New Years Eve of 2000 in a hotel 1500 miles from home preparing for my mom's funeral. I actually drank everything in the room’s minibar.

231. Stepdad’s side of the story (12/20/06) - Shane, Boston, Age 51

About 17 years ago I married a woman I loved very much but she had a son from a previous marriage. We didn't get along too well. He was the kind of person who would be an asshole just to get a rise out of you.

For a while we all did OK, then last fall she developed a crack habit. When Christmas rolled around I was enjoying a nice bottle of '86 Bordeaux to celebrate and she walked up behind me and hit me with a plate of water crackers. In a daze, I started to fight back and hit her son on accident. She fell onto our glass coffee table and cut her eyes so badly she's nearly blind now.

She pressed charges and her shithead son testified that I stabbed her eyes out with a goddamned corkscrew. They believed him and are taking 17 years of my life. I've never been a violent person, but if I ever get out of here I am going to take his eyes and make him eat them.

230. Comatose at Christmas (12/20/06) - Anonymous, U.S., Age 27

My mother was in a car wreck about a week before Christmas and ended up in a coma. She had lost control of the car, and to this day, nobody knows why.

Right before Christmas, a MRI revealed severe, irreversible brain stem trauma, and we were asked to make a decision. Christmas morning, I received a phone call from the hospital informing me that my mother had passed away.

Fuck Christmas.

229. Her dad went ballistic (12/20/06) - Louis, France, Age 32

It was my girlfriend's dad who gave Christmas that special meaning for years to come. We lived together in Albany in those days, now eleven years ago. We were young, too young maybe, and her parents always gave us grief over our shacking up.

For two years her parents refused to see her, even at Christmas, which seriously gnawed at her emotionally. That year she decided not to await their approval, and went home two days before Christmas, all the way to Michigan. She called me upon arrival at the airport to tell me she was fine. The next phone call I received came Christmas morning, and it wasn't her. Instead I got a very brief explanation by this a-hole officer I'd better take the first possible flight over there.

Until I arrived I really didn't know anything other than that something had gone sour between her and her parents. Once there I learned soon enough alright. There had been a fight, and the only way dad had seen fit to end it was by loading up his shotgun and shooting his own blood smack in the face, killing her on the spot, after which he apparently thought he had better leave no witnesses. In his rage he shot her brother and her mom as well.

In eight to twelve years he'll be a free man again, and I am trying really hard still not to organize a “welcome back” party he'll never forget. He's very God-loving now they say, and I believe that, just as I believe Old Kringle really lives on the North Pole. Thanks a lot for all my miserable holidays ever since, you monster.

228. Dead dad, stingy stepmother (12/20/06) - Sunshine, U.S., Age 27

I absolutely hate Christmas -- this year more than most, to be precise. My father just passed away recently and unexpectedly from some rare blood infection that he never knew he had. Come to find out afterwards they could have saved him, but they left him lying in an ER room wasting away. I think it was because he used to be an alcoholic, and they just thought it was because he had relapsed. He had just turned 47.

To top that off, he said that when he died my sister and I would be left with a large amount of money. He said we would never have to worry about money again. Well, needless to say, I totally got screwed. My stepmother has the right to distribute his money and belongings the way she pleases. Here she is sitting on A LOT of money and all of my fathers stuff, while I sit here trying to figure out a way to get my children presents for Christmas. I told her of my situation, and she won’t help. GO FUCKING FIGURE! My husband and I can’t afford Christmas presents for our 3 children.

We can’t get any help, not even from the Salvation Army. My husband makes 24 cents more than the cut off. This Christmas is really gonna suck, especially if we have to tell our children, whose ages range from 2 to 8 that there is no such thing as Santa. It’s so unfortunate that many kids will go without Christmas presents, including mine. In the words of my late father, "BAH FUCKING HUMBUG!"

227. Visions of parasites danced in her head (12/20/06) - Jessica, Bellevue, WA, Age 28

About two weeks before Christmas my fucked-up mom decided that she saw parasites throughout her home. They were supposedly two inches long and could survive on the dishes through the dishwasher. These parasites were present only because she found out that her husband (Number 3) had once had sex with an Asian girl 10 years prior and that these were a result of that. She decided that they were eventually going to kill her so she moved my little sister and herself to a very expensive hotel and made her husband "disinfect" the entire house with bleach...every day for 5 days.

So Christmas Day, my husband and I had to celebrate Christmas at the hotel. I should mention that I was 8 months pregnant, and throughout my entire life my mom had to be the center of attention, good or bad. She couldn't deal with the fact that I was receiving attention, so that's why the parasites were invented.

After opening the crappy presents, we went to the main floor of the hotel to eat the "free" dinner that was being offered. After all of us had filled our plates from the buffet, we found out that this had been a private dinner, paid for by someone else and we were crashing it. Thankfully they allowed us to keep the food, but we were forced to sit on the opposite end of the lobby, away from the other guests, and eat our dinner while people gave us nasty looks.

Great way to spend a Christmas? Sober and pregnant, with a crazy mom with parasites, a man that smelled of bleach, and stealing food. That would explain why I've never had a Christmas with her again. And I haven't spoken to her in 3 years. I heard she's been whoring herself to buy crack. I'm waiting for the day she dies.

226. Shipped off to military school (12/20/06) - Jeff, Alabama, Age 15

Just yesterday my parents surprised me with a bus ticket to Camphill, Alabama. They made me pack all of my stuff because I was going for all of Christmas break. Once I got there 2 cops escorted me to a place called Lyman Ward Military Academy, and my parents called and said I will be here for 3 years. All I have to say is Merry fucking Christmas, bitch. When I get out of here I will be 18 and I will go back home just to sock my dad in the face.

225. The Christmas curse (12/20/06) - Thomas, Pennsylvania, Age 27

While I know that Christmas is supposed to be a joyous time of the year. I am forever trapped in Christmas Hell! For the past 6 years right around Thanksgiving I start to dread Christmas because I know the inevitable is about to happen. It seems that every year anywhere from the week before Christmas to New Years I have a dark cloud hanging over my head when it comes to family and especially women. You see, for the past 6 years I have been dumped or been arguing with 5 different women (only 5 because, although we were arguing last Christmas, my ex-fiancée did not break up with me until 3 days ago.)

The first year it was a total shock. That women ran off on a drug binge and called me months later saying she is pregnant and it wasn't mine. The following year it was a different woman but a similar result -- only this one broke up with me on Christmas Eve, and this pattern continues to this day.

My family is never any help. The first words out of there mouths are "Where's (insert new female name here every year)," and when I tell them, they just tell me that maybe she didn't like the way I did this or that instead of offering any consolation.

So my new motto is, Happy Birthday Jesus, but F@#K Christmas.

224. Come to the principal’s office (12/20/06) - Anonymous, West Virginia, Age 16

When I was in 8th grade, I was at school on the last day before Christmas break. I got a call to come to the office; I would be leaving. I wasn't sure what was going on. When I got to the office my dad was standing there signing the papers for me to leave school. I left with him and we drove all the way to Martinsburg for my grandfather's funeral. Apparently he had died of cancer the night before but no one thought it would be important to tell his only grandson.

While I was there, I called my girlfriend and told her I was out of town and that my grandfather had died. Rather than apologizing, she just went into this rant about how she had gotten a new dress for the fucking Christmas Dance and now she had no one to go with. On top of it all, my girlfriend dumped me when I got home and made up a bunch of shit to get her friends mad at me.

223. Suburban denial (12/20/06) - Liz, California, Age 16

Well, I’m just a little suburban brat on lots of antidepressants, but I still hate Christmas. See, for my entire life it had been tradition to open presents and then go spend the rest of Christmas Day at my grandma’s with the rest of my extended family. Then a couple of years ago, when my family was just about to leave to go over there, we get a call.

Apparently, my aunt and cousins had arrived first, and rang the doorbell repeatedly, but nothing happened. So they had my littlest cousin (the only one who could fit through the window) climb in and look for grandma. She found grandma on the bathroom floor, passed out. Apparently she'd had a stroke a couple days ago. That put a damper on things.

Grandma held on a couple days, but ended up dying right after New Years. Every Christmas since, my dad's tried hard to pretend to be happy, but hasn't quite succeeded. At the same time, my mom tries to get all religious, even though I’ve been atheist ever since I left catholic school, so we end up fighting about Jesus or something ridiculous while my dad mopes in a corner. We end up all eating lots of chocolate and going into denial. Merry fucking Christmas.

222. Not the Brady Bunch (12/20/06) - Lauren, Long Island, Age 18

I've never really gotten along with my folks. We used to spend Christmas in upstate NY with my mother's family in a picturesque farm house. Unfortunately, almost ten years ago they moved to a smaller house that was not suitable for entertaining (or so I’m told). Instead, we spend Christmas at my dad's sister's house. She and her husband constantly bicker while their hyperactive daughter abuses whichever living creature she happens to find herself closest to. My dad's parents are the types who are obsessed with the fact that they're old and dying. My little sister is an obnoxious, sometimes violent pot head. My parents are convinced that I am a cynical bitchy Scrooge because I have never enjoyed these gatherings.

Last year I spent Christmas with my boyfriend and his family. It was wonderful; his family is like the Brady Bunch compared to mine, and made me feel welcomed by buying me multiple gifts and allowing me to participate in eating large amounts of pie. Unfortunately, said boyfriend recently converted to the Church of Scumbag and cheated on me. So this Christmas will be spent sitting in my aunt's living room with my iPod, drowning out the yelling like the past ten I have witnessed, except this year there will be the added bonus of heartache when I remember how great last year was.

221. Vindictive ex-wife (12/20/06) - Anonymous, North Carolina, Age 25

This was to be a perfect Christmas. My husband was to get his kids from his ex-wife and we were to be going to grandma's house. Well, the little jealous ex-wife decides to be deceitful because my husband was laid off and her $800-a-month child support stopped coming in, so she tried to put us both in jail for Christmas on falsified charges. The jail part didn’t work for her, but we didn’t get to visit the kids because all our money we had saved up from my own child support went to pay an attorney fee. Well, MERRY FUCKIN CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!! But remember those kids will always remember and know the truth.

220. Stares and whispers (12/20/06) - Scotty, Tennessee, Age 19

It's been a year since I've been home. Last Christmas I found out that the reason why our recently dead grandmother never liked me was because my abusive and vindictive stepmother had been telling our whole family that I had a drug problem and was whoring around throughout my teens. After a lot of thinking, I told my dad (who bawled) about her lying. He later confronted her, but that naturally doesn't cleanse my reputation.

After reluctantly coming back for Xmas this year, I've just been trying to endure my stepmother's family's conservative born-again Christian righteousness. My stepmother also has been sickeningly sweet to me around my father. The judgmental stares and whispers about my tattoos and piercing are horrible, and I've been trying not to scream. They also like to sit around and chat about how my dysfunction probably stems from my secular mother who happens to be a lesbian.

Last week my mother, who I haven't heard from in a couple of months, called to tell me she had been admitted to a psych ward. She said she didn't want to disturb my finals (and yet right before Xmas was more appropriate). My father already knew, but wanted her to tell me. So now I'm getting constant looks of pity as well, which by the end of the week I'll be getting from this whole bunch of ignorant hicks.

My only relief is knowing that my children will never fucking experience holidays like this, ever.

219. Makes a lump of coal sound good (12/20/06) - Michael, California, Age 40

My father was a hardcore alcoholic. He worked, but beat the hell out of my brother and me very often. When he saw us being too happy about Christmas coming, he would tell us we only had the "spirit of receiving" gifts. Several years he got us all excited about a big Christmas, then no gifts were there on Xmas morning. It was horribly cruel.

Instead of a happy day, he gave us a speech about working and contributing, and then we did chores. My most vivid memory is getting up one morning when I was about seven: no gifts, usual lecture, and my father vomited while screaming at us. It was just all too much and I ran to my room. He followed and beat me so badly that I have nerve damage in my left arm and it hurts about half the time, even now.

218. Serve ‘em on a plate (12/14/06) - Greg, Boston, Age 30

When I was 13 my parents got divorced and my mom married another man. I always thought my stepdad was an okay guy. I was always pretty sure he never cared if I lived or died, and the feeling was mutual, so long as he treated my mom right. That he did, but sometime before last Christmas he started drinking heavily for some unknown reason, and he's a mean drunk.

Last year at Christmas, he was drinking wine out of the bottle, some really cheap wine that smelled bad. My mom was bringing him a plate of snacks and she must have spilled something on him, because he started screaming incoherently and leaped to his feet.

The next thing we know, he's on top of her, screaming and spitting. His face was all red, and all I could hear were words like "whore" and "bitch." Before we could do anything, he snatched up the corkscrew and put both my mom's eyes out.

Long story short, if he behaves himself he will be out of prison in 17 years. I had to testify in court. My mom can sometimes tell if the lights are on, but most of the time she's 100% blind in both eyes. She gets strong painkillers because she tells the doctor her eyes hurt, but she told me she really takes the painkillers for her emotional pain. Her left eye is all scar tissue because the doctors removed the eyeball, but the right eye is this cloudy mess that looks like a giant cataract.

When that bastard gets out of prison, I am going to take his eyes and make him eat them.

217. Holiday ham fatality (12/14/06) - Jon, Chicago, Age 43

When I was twelve years old, my grandfather choked to death on a piece of ham at our family's Christmas dinner. My dad unsuccessfully tried to dislodge the meat from Grandpa's throat with his fingers, then a spoon, but by the time the paramedics arrived, Grandpa was dead. My entire family was running around the house, screaming and crying, and my grandmother fainted. (We momentarily thought she had died, too.) Merry Christmas, indeed.

216. Family is everything (12/14/06) - Anonymous, Beloit, Age 16

I love my family very much -- my dad, who works all the time; my sister, who emptied out all of our bank accounts for her daughter and drug addict husband; my other sister who is the coolest one out of all except she also takes everyone’s money; my little brother who’s a thief (who could have guessed?) and his psycho little girlfriend who thinks she owns everything, EVEN ME! And of course, my drunken mother. This Christmas my dad is in the hospital for chronic asthma, heart attack, and internal bleeding, and she is sitting at home getting smashed. When I’m not working full-time or in school, I am at home taking care of her. I had to pay for my whole family’s Christmas just so we could have one because my mom spent what little money we had on beer. Plus I have to pay the hospital bills. So all you guys here who wanna bitch about your families -- I would rather have no house, no Christmas, no money, than have no family. At least everyone is okay.

215. Orphaned on Xmas (12/14/06) - Jess, California, Age 17

Two Christmases ago my parents went to pick up my grandparents from some friends, and some drunk idiot caused a car crash, which they all died in. Dad was actually in a coma for a bit, but they turned the machines off on January 3rd. Everyone else died on impact. Mom was beheaded by a piece of metal flying through the windscreen. Me and my little bro now live with my Dad’s younger sister. We only ever see her a couple of times a month, and she has a drinking problem. In the beginning of next year, me and my brother inherit everything that was my parents’, so we're gonna buy a mansion in the hills, never speak to our aunt again, and have seriously cool Christmas. Until then, they suck. Our aunt even forgets the anniversary of her brother and her parents’ death, for God’s sake.

214. Alone with a frozen dinner (12/14/06) - Jorge, Phoenix, Age 31

Just cracked open beer number 4 to celebrate (yeah right) the start of my Xmas holiday. Getting ready to spend the next week in a constant state of alcoholic stupor, which for the last 10 years of so has been the only thing that gets me through this fucking season.

Christmas was miserable growing up. Every year Dad would bitch the entire month of December how much money it was costing him, and how we were just ingrates who didn't appreciate shit anyway. Mom, to overcompensate, would go into this totally fake, "Don't you just LOOOOVE the holidays!" Xmas-song-singing psycho attitude. If we didn't respond, she'd start screaming like a harpy about how she wished we'd never been born.

The eve of Xmas was usually a circus; the old man would usually spend as much time as he could at work, then stop off at the bar to get liquored up. Then, they'd herd me and my sister into the living room to open our “presents,” which usually were just crap. If we didn’t show the *appropriate* amount of gratitude, dad would get pissed at us for being brats, and drag one or both of us back to their bedroom for a beating with his leather belt. We'd wind up finishing Xmas eve banished to our rooms with a burning ass. My last Xmas before I left home at 16 I spent locked in my bedroom; I refused to come out, and told my bitch mother to just take all my fucking presents back.

Today, things haven't gotten much better. After spending six or seven Xmas holidays alone with a frozen dinner, I finally got married. Unfortunately, I've brought my hatred for Xmas into my marriage. After the first couple of Xmases I spent with my wife (where I just got drunk and angry as usual), she decided that she would no longer spend the holidays with me. Now, our lovely family tradition is that around Dec 21st, she packs her shit and goes to her family's house out of state and leaves me totally alone. I wake up alone on Xmas morning and no one calls me. Not to mention, she usually spends a TON of cash buying shit for herself and her family, but not a fucking thing for me. The highlight of my Xmas day is a frozen dinner, which half the time I wind up puking because I'm so drunk by the end of the day.

Xmas fucking sucks.

213. Thanks for the Xmas misery, Dad (12/14/06) - Glenn, Idaho, Age 40

Well, Christmastime is here again. My Dad’s birthday is on Christmas Eve. When I was 5 years old my Dad came home drunk on Christmas eve. That next Jun of 1971 that bastard took a .22 and killed himself three days before my 6th birthday. So for the past 35 years, Christmases have sucked and so have my birthdays. So thanks Dad for all the crappy Christmas' since 1971. I ended up being raised on welfare and had the worst Christmases ever since. Now I’m 40 years old and on disability and another El Sucko Christmas is on its way. Happy birthday Dad -- you asshole -- and Merry F'ing Christmas.

212. Corpse in the trunk (12/14/06) - Flavious, U.S., Age 39

Ah, Christ. Well here it is then isn't it? A lovely fuckin' Christmas for all. It's not the fact Great Aunt Bertha died – it.s the fact she almost wouldn't fit in the trunk, except we had some of those bungee tie-down cords. She smelled pretty bad too. She must have been dead for 12 hours or so when my wife and I found her face down on the kitchen tiles, when we went to pick her up for Christmas Eve dinner 2004. I didn't want to just leave her there. She smelled too rank to put her in the inside of the car, so we put her back in the trunk and tied it shut with the bungees and headed for the county hospital.

One of the roads to the hospital has cracked pavement. We went over a bump and one of her shoes flew off, and hit a parked police car on the side of the road, so then the cop woke up I guess, or dropped his donut and pulled us over. He asks if we are OK, and where we are going and NEVER NOTICES THE CORPSE in the trunk. What a dipshit. So one speeding ticket later we are off, Aunt Bertha's body still in the trunk.

We show up at the hospital and I go to unload the body and tell my wife to go inside and tell someone. That was when I noticed the children's choir on the front steps of the ER, which stopped in mid-song and then began to cry and scream as I walked with the 350+ pound dead body of my Great Aunt Bertha, dragging it past the kiddies through the ER doors. Ho Ho Ho. Jesus...let’s hope this year is a brighter one.

211. Can’t deal – I’m turning Muslim (12/14/06) - Chris, Boston, Age 23

Last Christmas my car was broken into on Christmas Eve while I was in the mall shopping for my girlfriend. They took the presents I got for her. It wasn't that bad, only around $100 in presents lost.

This year I decided to keep my presents at my best friend’s house until I had time when my girl wasn't home to bring them home and wrap them. I hid them behind his futon in his room thinking to myself they would be safe. Last night I went to his apartment to pick them up and guess what? They were fucking gone. My friend let some shitbrick crackhead in the house and the mothe fucker took my shit.

So two years in a row my girlfriend’s Christmas presents were stolen. When I called her to tell her, I swear she thought I was saying that just to get out of buying her anything. I'm turning Muslim. I can't deal with this Christmas crap anymore.

210. Christmas knife fight (12/14/06) - Joe, Tokyo, Age 23

Probably the worst Christmas of all time for me was Christmas '01. I was home for the holidays, and I got into an argument with my mother. We started yelling, and she suddenly started screaming bloody murder and saying that I had punched her (I was standing 10 feet away at the time).

Well, that didn't go over too well with my father, who was on the crapper in the guest bathroom. He came running out, pulling his pants up as he went, and chased me into the kitchen. Given that the old man has half a foot and at least 75 pounds on me, I did the only thing I could think to do: I grabbed a knife and told him to stay the fuck away from me.

Long story short, my dad and I were involved in a Christmas knife fight, and wound up in the emergency room getting stitched up (no major injuries, 'cause Dad's a pussy and my mother threatened to disown me if I hurt him). We told the doctors that we'd both tripped while carrying sharp objects. I don't think they believed us, because we got a visit from a social worker on New Year's Day, but when we told her the truth, she bitched at us for lying and wasting her time.

The real kicker is how my mom LOVES to tell this story. I would think she'd be ashamed, but she isn't. She *laughs* about how my father came racing out of the bathroom with his pants around his knees. Oh, she *says* she feels guilty for causing the fiasco, but her smug expression says otherwise.

209. Couch potato boyfriend (12/14/06) - Anonymous, Silicon Valley

I am with a guy who won't work. Admittedly, he's been depressed. I want to break up with him, but I also care about him. Prior to Christmas, he swore he would send out some resumes. He hasn't worked on any, much less sent one out. Just mopes around the house, won't go to counseling, bitches at my kids. If they gave a salary for doing crossword puzzles and Sodoku all day, he would be a millionaire. Our Christmas sucks this year, and last year sucked, too, for the same reason; I have a big depressed kid around the house instead of a partner. I want him to get help, but he thinks nothing is wrong with him. I've decided to just go on with my life, with or without him. My kids deserve better.

208. Fudge you, Mom (12/14/06) - Danielle, Las Vegas, Age 25

My story is pretty mild compared to some of the others on here, but my little drama still made me feel crappy about the holidays. I moved from Wisconsin to Nevada to pursue a new job and have some fun. Needless to say, after starting my new job there was no way I was going to be able to make it home for Christmas this year (or any other holiday). It would be the first Christmas I would ever miss. Anyway, I called my mom up a few days before Christmas to see how things were going. Instead of a nice cheery hello, she asked me to call her back because I interrupted her making fudge (ummm ok?!!)...and went on and on about how she never gets time to herself.

I know this might sound harmless, but she said it really snotty and mean as if I just violated some federal law. So I called her back about a half hour later and I basically had to force the conversation. I felt like total crap. Here I am, my first Christmas away from home, first time living out of state. I call home hoping for some comfort because I'm so homesick, only to have my mom flip out on me because I interrupted her fudge making. I had a good cry after that conversation. Thanks mom and happy holidays.

207. Mom stole the car (12/14/06) - Renee, Rhode Island, Age 22

Holidays at my dysfunctional house are never normal. Christmas Eve started out fine. We went to my grandparents’, then I hear my mom and grandfather fighting as usual. Of course it's over money. She wanted her Christmas money that night because the pathetic mental case had plans later that night to go out. She starts stomping around, cursing and banging things like a 10-year-old. God forbid she stays in on Xmas Eve. I decided to leave there and took my keys and went outside to get in the car. She ran after me and literally tackled me to the ground screaming that she had a date and to give her the car keys. Neighbors came out, my grandfather came out screaming trying to break it up, then my bag broke with all my things getting tossed all over the sidewalk. We ran inside where the fight got worse. My grandfather choked me, saying to get out of his house and my mother ran out and sped away in the car and the cops were called. Oh, I have to add that my grandmother, who is sick, was witness to all this in the house.

206. Panties in a bunch (12/14/06) - Anonymous, Buffalo, NY, Age 30

I have been once again been told that I single-handedly have ruined this "festive" time of year by my ungrateful girlfriend. Weeks prior to this "magical season" I heard countless complaints of how our love life was taking a nose dive due to our hectic schedules. So in an effort to show my appreciation to her I ordered her some lingerie. I went to the trouble to have her tell me her exact measurements and to find something sexy but not too outrageous. Additionally, she told me that she had "something special" in mind for me after dinner with her family, involving some lingerie she ordered and a hot tub.

So after getting out of another annoying dinner, we came home. I gave her the gifts and she went in to the bathroom to try them on and to put on her surprise for me. Of course, since it’s fucking Christmas, there had to be a fucking problem ONCE AGAIN.

She came out the bathroom all mopey. Stupid me asked what the problem was. She told me that my gifts for her were too small and that I obviously bought them to show her how she needs to lose weight. Stupid me pointed out that the lingerie was bought based on the sizes she told me. This went over like a fart in church. As an added bonus she decided that she felt unsexy and of course backed out on her promise for any type of romance. This naturally was followed by her sacking out on the couch and eating a HUGE piece of peanut butter chocolate pie. (That should help her fit into the lingerie!!!) Now she's asleep in front of the TV. HO HO HO MY FUCKING ASS! Oh well, time for net porn, AGAIN!!!! Santa can go fuck himself...

205. Jingle jerks (12/14/06) - Wendy, California, Age 39

My family goes all out for Christmas. We shop like crazy, trying to get the perfect gift for everyone. Our house is lit up, the tree is worthy of a magazine cover, and my sister, the caterer, cooks up a storm. Tonight, however was so disappointing. My stepbrother shows up with his family, and I notice he has a terrible cold/flu. Being as our mother is elderly, and so is her husband, I was very put off that he hadn't let us know he was sick, and perhaps stayed home. He didn't even sound like himself. He pretended there was nothing wrong with showing up for an elaborate Christmas dinner sick, and that exposing two elderly grandparents to his lousy virus was just fine.

Things escalated when he licked his germy fingers and cut back in the buffet line for seconds, when I hadn't eaten yet, nor had his wife. When I said something, he proceeded to yell, "FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!" It was totally inappropriate, and his wife took the two little kids outside. I no longer wanted to eat, and could not be in the same room with him. His wife was crying, and the kids were confused. We had to make up for the family's sake.

Next, we were opening gifts, and this wonderful Rolex replica that I had been trying to procure for months was finally opened by my stepdad. (I had paid plenty for it, and even a jeweler could not tell it wasn't authentic.) My sister's stupid boyfriend blurted out, "LEMME SEE IT! IT'S NOT REAL. IT DOESN'T EVEN FEEL REAL. IT'S A CHEAP CHINESE FAKE! HA HA HA!" I was mortified. We were all embarrassed, and I mouthed to my sister to stop him. It was too late. When confronted about blurting out, and ruining the moment, the guy starts screaming like a little baby, and denies anything except that he "Just said it wasn't real." Of course, we'd all heard him practically calling my gift a piece of shit. I'd also bought my Mom one, and it was diminished by his outburst. Next year, I'd like to go to Vegas for Christmas.

204. Santa can go to hell (12/14/06) - Kate, Michigan, Age 13

Where should I start? When I was seven years old, in November 2000, my parents started to fight. My mom decided a week before Christmas to get a divorce. She decided to keep it a secret till Christmas. What a bitch.

Three years later, two days before Christmas, my Grandma Goldie, Grandma Bobbie, and my stepmom and my real mom decide to kick me out of there houses. All of them decided to take pity upon me. They all let me back in the house.

Last year, the day before Thanksgiving there was a terrible storm and my Uncle Vince got into a car accident and died immediately. My mom ended up in the hospital because she was talking about killing herself. Then my great grandma Katrina (yes the name of the hurricane) died a week after. Then my next door neighbor’s husband decides to kill himself a week before Christmas all because of him finding out he had cancer. I find out my boyfriend is screwing another girl! After all that I decide to take him back because his mom died.

My grandpa was diagnosed with cancer the day before Christmas, which is the birthday of my uncle that had died. My mom decided to tell me to get the fuck out of her house and blamed it on my uncle’s birthday (when she said sorry and let me back in her house).

I loved that I have to work, on fucking Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I can get a cell phone. I don't even believe in the Christmas miracles anymore because there is no fucking Christmas Miracle for me anymore. So just let fucking Santa Claus die and get born in HELL!!

203. Let down by friends and family (12/14/06) - Eric, New York, Age 16

Every Christmas ever since I moved to New York has sucked. Last Christmas was horrible. It all starts with rumors going around at the beginning of the school year (this is high school) saying that my best friend was pregnant. I took her aside and asked her and she told me in confidence "no". I believed her because she is the only person in my life I have ever trusted. After months of her lying and hiding it from me, I come to find out it was true. I was disgusted. She was the only person ever I could trust. A few days later (December 24), I find out that she actually had the baby. It gave me the worst feeling I had ever gotten. I felt used, alone, pushed aside. I actually tried to kill myself because I had nobody else in my life that cared about me like she did.

It comes Christmas day and I hadn’t gotten any sleep because I was up all night crying my eyes out. I get a phone call at 9:00 telling me that my good friend in Philly died during the night in a fire. If that wasn’t bad enough, I go downstairs to open presents with my depressing family. My mom hates herself and was popping ant-depressants and tranquilizers all morning. My dad was yelling because he is the angriest person in the world. And my sister is an uptight b*tch and tells me nothing but insults.

I am way too depressed by this point to open any gifts and my dad gets pissed and calls me a faggot, throws a glass at me and kicks me in the side. My mom just sits there, pill bottle in hand. As I open all of my gifts, I come to realize that my parents only spent about 50 bucks on me (not that I actually care about getting presents, but it’s the principle). They couldn’t afford it because my mom spends all her money on designer clothes, cosmetic surgery, and on her secret affair with some man from work that I caught her in. My dad spends all his money on my mom’s gifts (mostly because he probably wants to persuade her to hold off filing divorce papers). I go to Philly the day after and my crazy grandmother shoved me in her car and left me off at a teenage detention center to rot because she hates that I don’t get along with her son. My oldest sister fortunately had enough heart to pick me up.

202. Stocking stuffer (12/14/06) - Morgan, U.S., Age 20

Each year keeps getting shittier. Last year, my boyfriend wanted to get me the prefect present...so, I took him to the mall and dropped hints. You know – “That’s nice.” “I really would like that for Christmas.” I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS!!! So, christmas rolls around and he starting gloating about some present he got me and how fabulous it was, blah blah blah...really creating some hype.

Now we get to the presents. I give my presents and I start opening his and I get really excited because whatever he got me was in this pretty velvet bag. I reach down into the bag and I feel what I got and grab it out, and....IT’S A GLASS DILDO!!! Not only that – it’s double-sided! His eyes light up when he tells me all about it -- how I can boil it to heat it up and clean it in the dishwasher. To make this story short -- I got off all the time, he didn't!

201. Felled by flatulence (12/14/06) - Brandi, Virginia, Age 17

At Christmas Eve dinner with my boyfriend's family and three of their close friends, my boyfriend's stepfather passed out on the kitchen floor. We'd thought he'd had a stroke or heart attack, and when they examined him at the emergency room, they told us that it was a gaseous buildup in his intestines. He'd held in his gas throughout the dinner, and when he was walking to the bathroom it overwhelmed him. The next day everyone was still traumatized by the event.

200. The Christmas “ho” (12/14/06) - Anonymous, West Virginia, Age 30

My worst Xmas was when I was 14. I had been a latch-key kid for a few years (and was really starting to develope some serious personality disorders due to it), and on Xmas Eve, the few hours that my mom was going to be home, she took me shopping with my boyfriend. Upon returning home (and after mom left) my boyfriend sweet talked me into having sex (my first time, but not his). Well, mom came home early and caught us in the act and took my boyfriend home and yelled at his parents, who told the entire town over the next few days. By the time school was back in after the holiday vacation, I was greeted by the phrase "Ho, Ho, Ho" which stuck for many years. I ended up pregnant but had a miscarriage due to a disease he gave me, which has prevented me from ever having children.

199. Holiday pink slip (12/14/06) - Lee, Pennsylvania, Age 37

Two days before Christmas last year (2005), my husband lost his job of 10 years. His boss handed him his termination letter and an envelope that said "Seasons Greetings" with his $50 Christmas bonus inside at the same time. Umm, thanks? He takes $1500/month injectable medication to be able to walk, and now we have no health insurance. Merry Fucking Christmas.

198. Obsessive depressive holidays (12/14/06) - John Doe, U.S., Age 22

I am OCD. Christmas consists of 24/7 Obsessive Compulsing. Then when Christmas Day is over my mood disorder sets in and the rest of the 12 days are spent with manic episodes. My dread of the holidays usually starts around Memorial Day and my post-Christmas depression ends around March 1. That gives me 2 months out of the year to enjoy -- the rest I’m in Christmas-Thanksgiving Depression or Obsession.

197. Deck the halls and deadbolt the doors (12/14/06) - Mary, New Haven, CT, Age 33

The Christmas when I was 12 years old was the scariest, most depressing Christmas ever. My older sister, who suffered from an unidentified psychiatric illness (later diagnosed as bipolar disorder), would erratically destroy things, tear the house up, throw people around (push them down stairs, break tables over their heads), and the like. The holidays seemed to bring out the worst in her behavior. My mother, who loved to decorate our home with a real pine Christmas tree and plenty of decorations came home a few days before the big day and found the tree completely destroyed - every glass ornament shattered, sentimental items smashed, presents unwrapped and broken, deliberately. Everything was just demolished.

Her illness had gotten so bad, we were prisoners in our own home. My parents were not emotionally or intellectually able to deal with this issue. I remember Christmas that year staying in my room with the door deadbolted on the inside to feel safe. When I was sure my sister had left the house, I snuck downstairs to my parents’ room, where they were deadbolted in, too. When she'd left, she had taken most of the special foods my mom had bought for the holiday. I sat in my parents’ room and we lit a candle and sat silently by the nativity set up on their bureau. My mother cried the whole time. That was my most miserable Christmas experience.

196. Cuckholded on Christmas (12/14/06) - Anonymous, U.S., Age 24

A few days before Christmas of 2003, my girlfriend told me she had been cheating on me for weeks and that she didn't want to be together anymore. She was my first love. It turns out she was cheating on me with a guy that I worked with. Christmas rolls around and he decides to skip work so that the two of them can be together for Christmas. My work called me to replace him, so I had to miss Christmas with my family to go fill in for a guy who was seeing my ex. While I was gone, my family ate Christmas dinner and opened all their gifts (including mine) and then went to bed. When I got off work, everybody was asleep, so I sat in a dark corner all night, hating myself and wishing I had her back.

195. Boys and their toys (12/14/06) - John, New York, Age 47

Christmas of 2005 was starting out to be one of the best in recent years since my father died. I had just gotten a job, I decorated my ass off, had all the culinary requirements, bought and wrapped all the presents and put them under the tree I’d put up. Everything was set until my older idiot brother Freddie, who was 52 at the time, had bought himself a radio-controlled helicopter! He was trying to get the piece of shit to work all day and was getting nastier by the second when his efforts were fruitless. I stayed out in the kitchen and listened to the CDs I had bought myself and decided to accelerate my intake of juiced-up eggnog to drown out my brother’s incessant whining.

The shit hit the fan when I realized I couldn’t cook because I was bombed to the max, so I went to lie down and Freddie yells, "You mean we’re not eating?!! " I retorted, “You fucking jerk, you let a kid’s toy drive me to drink myself stupid and now you’re demanding chow, especially since I did all the work to make this a decent Christmas!”

All hell broke loose, musical instruments were smashed, as my brother’s a retard musician who had a small amplifier with his microphone guitar set up to play Christmas tunes. It was like the aftermath of a Who concert. Freddie then runs to his room and pulls a switchblade on me! A Who concert meets Westside Story.

This Christmas I’m going to my wacko friend’s house to smoke dope, and let the other "dope" play with some other shit toy that don’t work.

194. Christmas leave denied (12/14/06) - Joe, Korea, Age 19

Christmas last year was a real winner. My leave authorization (to go home and spend the first Christmas with my family in YEARS) was revoked at the last minute, and I was given orders for a training TDY that ran over the Christmas holiday. I was heartbroken, to say the least.

When I asked why I was being sent on a short-notice TDY, my first sergeant said "It's a mandatory training class for the position you'll be filling in Iraq."

Turns out, the guy who was SUPPOSED to go had attempted suicide, and was thus disqualified from deployment. I got tapped to replace the wrist-slashing pussy in the desert. Nice. Hey, asshole, if you *really* wanna commit suicide, why don't you go suck-start your M16? I know you got one!

The truly heinous kick in the ass? Suicide boy got sent home to his family for Christmas "for medical reasons," that whiny little bitch.

193. Mom leaves, grandma dies (12/14/06) - Jack, Chicago, Age 36

Two years ago was my worst Christmas Eve. After our kids went to sleep, my wife and I spent two hours putting their toys together. When we were done she told me she was leaving me for her lesbian lover. And she would be spending Christmas Day with her, so I had to tell my kids why Mom wasn't there on Christmas morning.

So, after she packed her bags and left, I called my Mom and asked if the kids could stay with them for Christmas. After dropping them off, I went home and drank a lot. While playing with her grandkids, my Mom had a heart attack. She dropped dead and my children called 911.

Since I didn't answer the phone (because I was passed out), my kids spent Christmas Day at the police station. So now after putting my Mom into the ground, my soon to be ex-wife and her “partner” are suing me for custody. Now I'm spending all my money on lawyers so that carpet-munching bitch doesn't raise them. And I have almost no cash to buy then Christmas gifts. So I told them, “This year, Christmas is cancelled!” No tree, no presents, or Christmas dinner. And now they hate me, but it's for their own good.

192. Dead on the side of the road (12/14/06) - Connie, California, Age 49

December 16, 2005, I was trimming the Christmas tree after waking up with a miserable flu. My husband let the dog out and I didn't worry about her because she always came home. Well, that night she didn't. We ate dinner and went out to search for her. She was dead along the side of the road. I loved that dog like a sister. I was so close to her and it still hurts to this day. I really miss her so much. Now Christmas and everything about it just sucks!

191. Cleaning up Dad’s mess (12/14/06) - Martin, Idaho, Age 37

My rotten dad picked 8 days before Christmas to die. We hadn't talked in 6 years. While my mom was taking care of funeral arrangements (they divorced when I was 7), my older sister made me go with her and clean out his apartment because his douchebag landlord wanted to rent it out before the year ended.

While she was cleaning up the kitchen, I went into his bedroom and discovered a whole bunch of very sticky porno mags and unwashed clothes. Then I found a photo album of myself and my older brother and sister. He'd taken a coal and burned every picture of me out of them. I guess he hated me as much as I hated him. Before my sister could see them I tossed them all into a garbage bag and said, “Nothing but crap.” What was the point? So when all was said and done, I didn't go to the service, and didn't show up for Christmas celebration. I hate Christmas and will never take part in it again.

My stepdaughter is retarded. Very high-functioning, but retarded. Christmas morning she loses emotional control and proceeds to destroy our house, breaking everything made of glass and overturning the tree. She screams and shouts obscenities as she's dragged to the car. We had to return her to her state facility where she could be managed. The only way she'd ride in the car was in the rear floorboard, held down face-first into the carpet by me -- all the while she's gripping my balls in a death clutch. The drive took 40 minutes and she was met with white coats. Upon returning, we visited relatives who were unaware of the trauma we'd just been through.

189. Winter wonderland no more (12/21/05) - Anonymous, Ontario, Age 50

On December 23, 2002, my Mum got cancer for the second time. That was my worst Christmas. Due to doctors’ errors, she was not able to keep up her chemo, which of course was a bad thing. We spend our last Christmas with her in the hospital. My mother was an awesome woman who did Christmas to the max. Walking into her home was like walking into a wonderland. It will never be the same without her. She passed away ten months later in October, so the Christmas after was just horrible.

188. We don’t do holidays (12/21/05) - Kristin, California, Age 18

About 5 years ago I had everything – family would fly in from Colorado and N.C. and we'd have a big Christmas dinner and it'd be great -- the whole perfect family deal. Then my grandma died and that part of the family sold the house I grew up in (with my parents and grandma) out from underneath us. Since then I haven't had a Christmas or a Thanksgiving. Both holidays consist of me watching TV, my dad fucking around in the garage and my mom eating French bread pizza

187. Prozac Christmas (12/21/05) - SZ, Pennsylvania, Age 21

Last Christmas was the first (and only) Christmas during which I was taking antidepressants. I had just started taking them a week earlier and had yet to see any results, so I was obviously in a shitty mood. So Christmas day rolls around, and I drank a few glasses of wine during our family Christmas dinner. Shortly afterward, my parents went to some Christmas party, leaving me home alone. I start watching movies... and drinking... and watching movies... and drinking... Next thing I know I'm bawling my eyes out and have no idea why.

My parents get home in the middle of this episode and my dad starts yelling at me about drinking so much (I hadn't bothered to take care of the empty beer bottles or put the liquor away). Well, at this point the meds start reacting with the alcohol in a very bad way and things get rowdy. I brushed him off, telling him to mind his own damn business. He continues to yell and suddenly I leapt to my feet and got in his face screaming obscenities. He's not the kind of person to take that, so he starts yelling back. Well, before I know what I'm doing, I find myself beating the piss out of him and unable to stop. He slugged me in the jaw when I first attacked him but then stopped fighting back as I repeatedly crushed my fists into his face. Finally I got off him (I had him pinned on the ground waling on him) and looked around.

My mother had a look of horror on her face and I was very confused. It felt like an out-of-body experience. Slowly my dad got up and looked at me. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth and had two huge shiners. I didn't know what to do at that point, and my mother was screaming at me all while this was going on. My dad started to open his mouth to say something... and that's when I caught him with a right hook and dropped him again.

I didn't stick around this time though. After he dropped I ran up the stairs and out the door (barefoot) into my front yard into my truck. I proceeded to drive drunk and barefoot for about 15 minutes to my best friend's house. His little brother let me in, but he was fast asleep. So I passed out on their basement couch. Upon returning home the next day I found all my bags packed.

186. A curse upon you (12/21/05) - Anonymous, Las Vegas, Age 37

Most of my Christmases have been good, but the last few years have sucked. In 1995, my dad, who I had not seen since high school, was supposed to visit for the holidays. At the last minute he said he couldn't visit. He never called for Christmas so I knew something was wrong. They found his body 5 months later, decomposed in his apartment. My aunt was too lazy and didn’t care enough to file a police report or go knock on his door to see if he was OK or get the landlord to open the apartment up.

A few years after that, my mother, who had already had a stroke, broke her hip. She had an infection in her foot that she told no one about. Turns out she had gangrene and her leg below the knee had to be cut off. Her doctor was Hindu or something, and he goes and cuts her leg off on Christmas Day. He could have waited a day. I hope he comes back in his next life as a festering boil.

The last few Christmases have been bad because of no money. It's depressing seeing everyone happy and buying gifts and you can't. This year, my brother is one step away from me having to Baker Act him. He's been suicidal for over two months now, and won't take medication or get help. His girlfriend thinks she can cure him and that medicine doesn’t work. I have no money to buy gifts this year, my rent was due on the 3rd and I have no money to pay that. My job isn’t even having a Christmas party; they want us to have a party in February. I hate hearing Christmas music or commercials on TV. It's really getting to me. I really used to enjoy the holiday but not anymore.

185. Cold-hearted bitch (12/21/05) - Anonymous, Iowa, Age 19

My parents never had time to raise me, so I had a “grandma” who was the wife of a man my mother worked with. She raised me, and is wholly responsible for me being a 4.0 student all of my life. My mom never liked her, yet allowed me to be in her care while she worked for years and years. I thought of her as family and I loved her more than my biological grandmothers.

Two years ago, on Christmas Eve, I was walking past the living room and my mom says, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you this. Your grandma died today,” in the most casual voice I have ever heard her speak. I collapsed in the hallway and cried for hours. She sat and watched TV. Merry Fucking Christmas, you bitch.

184. Broken heart, broken hand (12/21/05) - Ryan, Chicago, Age 21

Christmas 2003 was the worst Christmas for me ever. A week before the 25th, my girlfriend of 8 months, my first love, dumped me the day after our 8 month anniversary, after I had taken her out to an expensive dinner the night before. In the following days I found out that she had been cheating on me for the past month. Then two days after the breakup, my friends dragged me to go snowboarding with them. I ended up fracturing my wrist and had to have surgery the day before Christmas Eve. While my family had a great Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day at my grandparents, I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day lying alone in bed, taking about four 750mg Vicodins every hour to wash away my physical and emotional pain. Worst Christmas ever.

183. Festive fistfight (12/21/05) - Anonymous, Tennessee, Age 47

I think my worst Xmas was in '83 or '84. In '83, my alcoholic husband came home roaring drunk and angry. We had a fistfight in the basement and my 13-year-old nephew, along with one of his friends, broke up the fight. His friend put my husband out the door and into a snow bank. A year later around Xmas we tried to get back together, and again, it didn't work out. I have since been diagnosed mentally ill and can't afford my meds. This year I am supposed to go to my in-laws' for Xmas, and I’ll have to put up with 30 housecats (I'm allergic) and a bratty niece. With the help of my friend Jim (Beam), I'll be fine.

182. Slipped on the slopes (12/21/05) - Joe, Massachusetts, Age 20

Last year when I was 19 and getting ready to come home from college for Christmas break, I decided to go test out my new season pass at the local ski resort (two days before Christmas). Obviously a bad idea in hindsight, as I fell and snapped my right leg in half. I had to get driven home from Vermont with my leg in a splint, and I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas in the hospital recovering from surgery on my leg. This Christmas I’m getting surgery a few days after Christmas to get the metal in my leg removed, so more holiday cheer spent in the hospital!

181. Right to the point (12/21/05) - James, Everett, WA, Age 20

I was overseas for a Christmas port visit in Hong Kong. I received an email from my younger sister. It simply stated this:

”Hey, if you tried to call the house and couldn’t get thru, it’s because the house burnt down this morning. Merry Christmas.”

180. Stale turkey and warm urine (12/21/05) - Bill, New Jersey, Age 40

This story usually takes the cake when talking about shitty Christmas Days…so here goes. I was 17, and my father was dying of cancer. He was a 230-pound man knocked down to 120 pounds in a few months...not the best thing to see. So Christmas Day rolls around and all the happy horseshit plays out. We all know that after weeks of planning, it's OVER by 4 o'clock...done, finished, no more presents to look forward to, just after-Christmas sales on the TV.

Christmas 1983 was a dreary day around 55 degrees and a light mist of rain pissing from up above...I got your fuggin' White Christmas right here. So, Christmas is over, and we are taking a ride to the VA Hospital to visit my father for his last Christmas. I tell you nothing beats a Christmas at a VA Hospital, visiting your dying father with the smell of stale processed turkey and warm urine in the air.

179. Picking up the pieces (12/21/05) - Kate, Macon, GA, Age 18

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in September, and will be in the hospital through Christmas. My boyfriend is in Iraq, and my brothers aren't coming home. Because I am the oldest daughter, I am taking care of everything that my mother normally would. On top of that, I am dealing with finals and I am totally ready to bitch slap my older brother for ignoring the needs of our family. Why am I the one that picks up the pieces?

178. Holiday hit-and-run (12/21/05) - JP, Virginia, Age 19

Three years ago, a normal Christmas was quickly transformed into a terrible one. Following gift opening and Chinese for dinner, my brother and I went to see Gangs of New York later that night. He drove, but suggested that I should park the car and he would get the tickets. (Recently the movie theater had started to ID for every R rated movie, and I was only 16 at the time.)

I decided that it would be best to park close, but I ended up hitting the car I was trying to squeeze in next to. I thought about what to do, and I decided to flee and park much further away. I didn't tell my brother any about it, and I watched the movie, and I was briefly able to forget my troubles. My brother drove me back to my mother's, not noticing the little damage on the car. Around 4 a.m. my mother woke me and asked me if I had hit a car outside the theater. She said the police were on their way, and I was arrested about an hour later. Turns out there was a deputy right outside the entrance who had seen the entire thing.

177. We lost everything in the blaze (12/21/05) - Donovan, Sunnyvale, CA, Age 22

On the day after Christmas in 1993, I awoke to the sound of my father yelling, "Boys, get out! FIRE!” Our Christmas tree had caught fire, which set fire to the drapes and the carpets, which ultimately engulfed the entire house in flames in less than 10 minutes. My 2 younger brother, my dad, and I narrowly escaped being swallowed up in the blaze. We lost everything: all of our Christmas presents, all of our clothes, furniture, pictures, the whole 9 yards. Our family dog also died in the fire.

Since the entire house was destroyed, and we were left with nothing and nowhere to stay, we had to stay in a hotel for two weeks until a rental home could be located. There as also a lengthy dispute with our insurance company (fuck you, Farmers Insurance) over who would pay for the damages to the house and the cost of rebuilding.

The next year, on December 23rd, some asshole ran over and killed our cat, which had survived the fire, just as my dad was preparing to sit in front of the house dressed as Santa Claus and hand out candy canes to all of the neighborhood kids. Merry fucking Christmas.

176. Something was very, very wrong (12/21/05) - Corbin, Los Angeles, Age 29

The last time I celebrated Christmas was when I was 19. I was living with my mom at the time and me and my two brothers will never forget what happened two days before Christmas. My mom had taken us all to the mall that day to do some Christmas shopping for Dad and my younger sister. Everything was fine until we got home and saw five police cars parked in our yard and driveway. I knew as soon as I saw them that something was very, very wrong. My mom told the cops that she lived there and wanted to know what was wrong. The cop gave my mom a look of concern but let her through. My mom told us all to stay in the car and we did.

A couple of minutes later my mom came out of the house stumbling and sobbing like I have never seen her before. She looked very pale as if she had seen a ghost. It turns out that a couple of thugs had broken into our house and shot my dad in the chest with a shotgun and my sister in the face. She was only 10. They had taken everything. They robbed the place clean. I'll never forget that day.

A few months later my mom committed suicide and one of my brothers is now locked up for life for double murder. He killed his girlfriend and their baby. My other brother is now in an insane asylum. I'm also very miserable and have been to jail a couple of times for battery and assault. Yeah. Merry Christmas indeed.

175. Bad dog, no Christmas (12/21/05) - Samantha, Arizona, Age 20

When I was fifteen, my parents finalized their divorce a week before Christmas. I found the paperwork, signed and everything, while I was rummaging through my father's office. I cried for days, but never told my father why.

Last year my dog Skids ran away from home. Not too bad, until the pound told us he had "violent habits," as he was biting the pound workers and had bitten the people who had brought him in. Since he was an old dog and was having health problems, Mom thought it would probably be for the best that he be put down -- the day after Christmas, because the hospital was closed for Christmas.

174. Drunken jailbait (12/21/05) - James, San Jose, CA, Age 22

I got drunk three years ago at a party about a week before Christmas and met this really cool girl. She was really interested in me and made such a point of it that I knew she wanted me. Completely drunk, we had sex. Two days later, cops tore down my door and arrested me for statutory rape. Turns out she was seventeen, I was nineteen. I spent about three weeks in prison, including Christmas and New Years, only to be let off with community service and a fine. Her parents didn't try to press charges, thankfully. Funny thing is, me and her are still dating. Let’s just say that Christmas dinner with her parents is really awkward.

173. Jingle bullets (12/21/05) - Mega, Muncie, IN, Age 22

It was Christmas Eve and I was about 4 years old. I was in bed sleeping. My father had finished wrapping the presents and had some extra time, so he was cleaning his gun. Well, it went off, and shot right through the tree. It was a Dirty Harry-type gun. It tore the tree in two, went through two walls and out into the yard. The gun shot woke us all up. We came running into the living room where my father tells us Santa was looting the house and he had to kill the bastard. You can imagine what my little four-year-old brain thought. I was wailing that we would never get Christmas again. Both of my brothers were freaking out and Dad made them go look for the bullet in the yard. They never did find the bullet....

172. Frosty face-plant (12/21/05) - Anonymous, Massachusetts, Age 33

When I was 12 my parents got me the BMX of my dreams...a shiny new Mongoose. I immediately took it outside to try it out, in the subzero weather, on an ice-covered dirt road. I got a head start and shot down the road, turned around and came back. While flying by my house, I decided to slow down and hit the front brakes. I flipped completely over the handlebars and did a face-plant, which cost me 5 teeth and required numerous stitches and one reconstructive surgery. I was also somewhat traumatized and learned to resent my Christmas gift.

171. AWOL adulterer (12/21/05) - Elizabeth, NB, Canada, Age 19

My father, an officer in the military, had been cheating on my mother for seven months with a woman ten years his junior, who also happened to be the wife of a superior officer. We'd spent Christmas that year at his parent's house, and since my birthday is five days after Christmas (and they’d both be working), my parents dropped me and my brother off at my aunt’s house. Two days before my birthday, my mother showed up and said she had no idea where my father was. On my birthday, he called my aunt's house, got in a fight with my mother on the phone, and hung up. Turns out he was two provinces away, visiting his girlfriend (without a leave pass, officially making him AWOL). I star-69'd the number and called him back, but he didn't pick up. I ended up sobbing into his girlfriend's answering machine - with his voice on it - begging for him to talk to me. He finally called back and was joking as though nothing was wrong. I've never been so miserable in my life, and I remember it all so clearly every Christmas.

170. Christmas crime scene (12/09/05) - David, Germany, Age 32

When I was 19 my boss made me work Christmas Eve on the nightshift. I got home at about 9 a.m. to find police cars surrounding my house. I managed to get past the insensitive police officer at the crime scene line to talk to my mother, who was in a state of shock. A police officer told me that my father had strangled my brother in a drunken rage. He ended up serving a life sentence in prison and my mother killed herself about a week later. I've never had such a bad Christmas and attempted to commit suicide 3 times over the following 3 Christmas periods.

169. Just another miserable day (12/09/05) - TL, Ohio, Age 51

I have a heart condition that has always prevented me from doing most things normal people take for granted. I've had it since birth. The thing is, since I was also adopted into a family which already had three natural children, I was always the odd spoke in the wheel, and never received the same love and attention as the others.

I recall way too many times watching the others unwrap their expensive gifts at Christmas, while every Christmas I would receive the standard shirt, and a small box of Whitman sampler candy. Now I am 51 and have never in 51 years had a Christmas experience that was enjoyable.

Since I can't work, I know way ahead of time that there will never be any Christmas presents under any tree for my wife of 14 years. She's disabled as well. It makes me sick to see these rich people who take everything for granted smiling with arms full of packages for their loved ones while not giving a rats ass about those less fortunate.

Christmas is just another miserable day, same as all the rest. All year round we scratch and save to pay rent and buy food and pay our bills. December is no different.

168. I was a selfish brat (12/09/05) - Keith, Kentucky, Age 37

I guess my worst Christmas was in 1975. My dad had been ill that year and my parents had struggled to pay the utilities. Despite the hard times, he had gotten better and back to work in time for them to pay the bills, and they were relieved. I guess Christmas had snuck up on them with all the effort they put into saving our home.

Only a few dollars were left, but my mom realized it was Christmas Eve and took us to town to buy presents. All I could worry about was what I wanted. I had no idea the reality of the situation, nor had I the ability to understand just what a brat I was being. Not a Christmas goes by that I don't think about how she must have felt and how I wished I had understood. My worst Christmas was my own fault.

167. TV dinner and porn (12/09/05) - Scott, Georgia, Age 23

I just got back from an 8-month deployment to find out that my wonderful wife was a little less than faithful. I got to my house to find my laptop, computer, TV, and recliner piled neatly in a corner. Everything else was gone, right down to the dishes and cups. This Christmas will be a TV dinner in front of the TV while downloading porn. It just might be the best Christmas ever.

My mom was a little "senile" and 1991 was the last year we let her host Xmas dinner. She had to run out and get some spices, while we tended to dinner preparations. The bird ended up being way too big for the pan to cook it in, and the obvious result was a serious grease fire in the oven. I saved the bird, and while my wife held the oven door closed, I called the fire department. My mom had so many decorations in her windows, you couldn't open any of them to vent the smoke. By the time my mom got back, the fire was out and I spent Xmas night in the emergency room, due to my wife's case of severe smoke inhalation. HO-HO-HO !!!

165. Worst four out of five (12/08/05) - Ryan, Nebraska, Age 24

Four out of the five last Christmases have been spent with my family in the hospital with someone either dead or dying. First year: My grandma died in our living room while we were opening presents. Next year: Nothing. Just weirdness. Third year: My mom had been in a coma from leukemia and died the day after Christmas. Lotsa fun. Fourth year: On Christmas Eve we found a tumor in my six-month-old nephew the size of your fist, and so we rushed to the hospital to spend another year there. Last year: On Christmas Eve, my brother-in-law and that same nephew were in a car accident which sent both of them to the hospital, with nice, big pieces of metal though my brother's body. Everyone lived, though. So, who knows what's going to happen this year. I think it's probably my turn.

164. Christmas in the crazy house (12/08/05) - Cat, US, Age 20

Near the end of November, my best friend tried to kill herself. I visited her in the mental hospital regularly for nearly a month when she was finally released. Two days later, my brother tried to kill himself. Just when I thought I was done with that place, another month of regular visits, and Christmas Eve and Christmas day spent "celebrating" in the mental hospital, surrounded by crazy people…all day Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to boot, thanks to extended holiday visiting hours.

163. That really sucks (12/08/05) - Goldie, CT, Age 30

When I was 18, I was at a Christmas party with my friends. Well, I can't drink much and got toasted pretty quick. Anyway, this really good-looking chick who I was after kinda took advantage of me. She pierced my nipples and both ears, which I allowed like a grinning idiot. Then she told me I could check her out naked if I would blow myself first. Well, after a few tries, I was able to get myself in my mouth. Then the bitch opened the door and everyone at the party was able to see me. Some fucking friends. I’ve never been able to live this down. Since then, I don't drink, I don't do parties, and I don't do Christmas. I also don't see any of the assholes that made fun of me.

162. Croaked on the crapper (12/08/05) - Jon, Hawaii, Age 26

Dec. 19, 1995 I found my step-dad dead, on the toilet, as I was leaving to take a final at school. So this was shitty (pun intended), but what was worse than seeing my step-dad's dead ass (literally) was having to call my mother at work and tell her that I had found her husband dead. The best part was when I had to pick her up from the office (she was so hysterical that she couldn't drive), and she started ripping my clothes and scratching my face in front of her co-workers. Also, the fact that when we pulled into the driveway, the funeral home was just bringing the body outside, the icing on the cake. Screw you, Santa!

161. Bad things come in threes (12/08/05) - Dustin, Washington, Age 21

Four years ago I was busy taking my finals just before I was going home for the holidays, when I get a phone call from my parents that I need to drive to Spokane to visit my grandfather, who was put in the hospital for a heart problem. Supposedly it was minor, so I thought nothing of it and proceeded to come to Spokane a few days later.

When I arrived, my grandfather and everyone seemed to be in high spirits, thinking that he would make it through OK and everything would be fine in time for Christmas. Everything wasn't fine. Ended up that my grandfather had a reaction to the medication he was taking and that caused his lungs to harden to the point where he couldn't breath. He ultimately died 3 days before Christmas.

I thought nothing could get worse until I remembered my mother telling me that bad things come in threes. Over the course of the next 3 days I found out that my girlfriend of 5 years was in a roll-over accident and may not make it through to Christmas, and I failed 3 of my finals because I forgot to go take them because I was in the hospital with my grandfather. Christmas sucks. We don't even celebrate it anymore since that year, and now my grandfather's children are fussing over his money.

160. Christmas party pooper (12/08/05) - Jay, NY, Age 51

This story was miserable then...but it’s funny now. My wife and I went to the annual Xmas Eve family get-together about 10 years ago. We arrive, fashionably late, and immediately walk over to our hosts to greet them by the tree. Much to our horror, my wife had stepped in dog shit in the front yard, and proceeded to leave footprints of her travels through the house. (Footprints a dance studio would have been proud of.) Needless to say, the hallway and living room had to be evacuated of 30 or 40 people, IMMEDIATELY (or else someone else would have stepped in it!), and all sorts of cleaning had to begin on the carpet in the hallway and living room, with everyone in full formal Xmas attire. Xmas eve dinner was late that year. We didn't stay for dessert.

159. Cancer Christmas (12/08/05) - Sebastian, Lafayette, IN, Age 24

Christmas '96 was bad because my mother was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. Christmas '97 was horrible because my mother was in the hospital receiving her biweekly chemo treatment. Christmas '98 was perhaps the worst, because, at this point, my mother's cancer had returned and she was in such a bad state that she couldn't travel. So, our whole family came to our house for the festivities.

It was probably the best Christmas, until, early in the afternoon, my mother had a breathing problem (relating to the cancer) and was rushed to the hospital. The day after Christmas, northern Indiana experienced the start of the worst blizzard since 1978, so I was stuck in the hospital for the next 9 days (taking showers in whatever empty patient room I could find) until the police said it was OK to travel.

I went home for the evening and was awakened on January 4th, 1999 with a call from my sister that mom had passed away, and I wasn't even there. So, that would be the worst.

Christmases haven't been that great since then either. My current job (and the one I held previously) is as a manager in a department store. That being said, I have spend the last 4 years working Christmas eve and the day after, and have not been able to see my family on the holidays since the worst one.

This year...I have the DVDs and vodka already lined up for a merry Xmas.

158. Sharp shooter (12/08/05) - James, Pennsylvania, Age 65

It was four years ago when my grandson turned 13. For the past 3 years, all that he asked for was a BB gun. I figured that now that he was a teenager, he could have one, and use it for practicing on small animals, seeing as his father was going to take him hunting the next year. Finally it reached about six in the evening, and time for presents under the tree. I had wrapped it in red wrapping paper with Santa and his reindeer on it. He threw the wrapping paper aside, and I watched as he picked up the box and had the most satisfied look on his face. Little did I know that in about 3 minutes, I would be on the floor with a BB pellet in the back of my knee cap. Ho ho ho, merry friggin’ Christmas.

157. Dad fed us scraps (12/08/05) - Anonymous, Delaware, Age 22

When I was 10, my mother couldn't afford presents, so we got a couple of things from the dollar store and that was it. The only thing I was looking forward to was going to my grandmother’s house for Xmas dinner. When my mother said we weren't going, I started to cry. That’s when my mother beat the crap out of me and left me several bruises. I ran outside in the snow and sat there for hours while she locked me out.

A couple years later, I was forced to live with my father, who I'd never met before because my mother had been arrested. My father treated me and my brother like we were horrible little secrets. For Xmas me and him got $5 in quarters while my dad’s other children and his new wife got all these wonderful gifts. For Xmas dinner that night, he and his wife went to a restaurant and me and my brother were forced to sit outside in the truck while they ate. Then they came back and gave us the scrap food that they didn't eat. Bastards. I now don't speak to either of my parents. If they died tomorrow, it wouldn't matter to me at all.

156. One shitty Xmas after another (12/08/05) - JC, Largo, FL, Age 39

I'm 39 years old. Over the years the following things have happened to me during Christmas. My house was foreclosed on the weekend before Christmas back in 2001 and I had to move into my truck. I hope the bank burns down.

I lost my girlfriend of 7 years when I caught her in bed with another guy. I had just gotten home from a family camping trip which she said she didn’t want to attend due to nausea -- 2 days before Christmas.

During one Christmas a few years later, I lost my job because my coworker got fired on Christmas Eve and I told my boss that it was a terrible thing to do right before the holidays -- so he said, You can join him, and fired me as well.

One year my cat, which I had for over 10 years, became sick. The vet told me he had heartworms which is incurable in cats, so I had to put him to sleep a few days before another glorious December 25th.

One year, my Dad, who was an alcoholic, decided that he didn’t like the way our tree looked, so he jumped up and down on it until it was flat -- complete with presents underneath. I was only 12 then and my brothers and sisters all sat around and cried for the entire day as we picked through the ruins of our gifts.

So this year I am biting my nails, wondering what torture the universe has in store for me.

155. It’s always something (12/08/05) - John, Nevada, Age 44

In 1997 my first wife told me she was having an affair with an OLD man I used to work for, and got I her the job with his company. This was on December 7.

In 1999 my Mom died 3 weeks before Xmas. The only good thing was we were able to buy a small house from her small savings. Now, we send all our money to the bank every year. But at least we have a roof over our heads.

In December 2001, my wife was diagnosed with cancer. A year later a hit-and-run driver smacked me on my bike (our car got repossessed because my wife couldn't work, and I had doctor’s orders to stay with her 24/7 because the chemo drugs almost killed her). I had my hip replaced and lay in bed all Xmas day.

Last year, on December 23, I got hurt on the job and have been out of work all year, dealing with workman's comp assholes. Plus, my other hip has got arthritis so bad, I get to have surgery again a week after Xmas this year.

For Xmas this year, I found a nice sparkly quartz rock in the backyard. It's my present to my beautiful wife. I'd buy her something, but the bank just raised our mortgage $200. Starting when? December!

154. Hypothermia for the holidays (12/08/05) - Anonymous, Northeast US, Age 36

I never was much for Christmas since I was 16, but there always seemed to be at least one good thing that I could focus on so it seemed a little like Christmas. But four years ago I had my most miserable Christmas with no redeeming factors about it at all.

I had just run from my ex-husband because he had tried to kill my son by strangling him and I jumped on his back to save my son. We went to a homeless shelter for most of the fall and I finally had saved enough to get us an apartment. But my job was minimum wage and didn't go far. I didn't have enough money to buy any gifts and the fuel ran out on Christmas Eve.

So, I sent my son to his friend's house to celebrate and I sat alone in a 20 degree house (which wasn't much warmer than the 15 degrees outside), huddled in all my clothes and a coat with all the blankets we owned wrapped around me. So, Christmas day was spent wrapped up and shivering on the bare floor. Actually, I guess even that Christmas had a silver lining because I got to catch up on all the sleep I had lost trying to build a life for us again.

153. The crack head who stole Christmas (12/08/05) - Katie, Alaska, Age 21

All I got for Chistmas this year was money and gift certificates, and I opened them at my grandma's house, and then put it all in my purse so I wouldn't lose anything. Added up all together it was probably worth $200 or more -- a lot for a poor college student. And then my step-granddad's daughter in law shows up, and she's literally a crack head with no job, and she stole my whole purse! There went my license, credit cards, check book, and all my Christmas presents! And then my mom yelled at me for it! Argh! I hate Christmas!

152. Impotent and gutless (12/08/05) - Todd, Michigan, Age 55

I just spent my 18th straight Christmas alone today. I got divorced 22 years ago. My last relationship was with an alcoholic slut who dumped me November 1986. Mom and dad and brother are all dead. I suffer from extreme social anxiety, and have no friends, just work acquaintances. I lie to them about "going out of town to spend Christmas with my family.” I could never tolerate their pity if they knew the truth.

I've been impotent for the last 18 years. I tried psychiatrists, urologists, the works. Confidence with women, always in short supply in my life, is gone. I once had hope before I lost my looks and got old, fat, sickly, and bald. My own fault? Sure, but a lot of piss ass luck too. I guess a lot of guys would have killed themselves on one of those 18 Christmas days alone. I still have two hours left tonight. But I guess I'm GUTLESS too...

151. Vicodin Xmas (12/08/05) - Terra, California, Age 22

My worst Christmas was when I was 19. A month before Christmas I decided to get an industrial piercing in my ear. Well, lo and behold, the ear gets infected a few days before Christmas. I ended up spending Xmas Eve in the emergency room and I can’t even remember Xmas day because I was in so much pain. The following week I sat in bed all day in a daze of pain and Vicodin. I ended up getting surgery for my ear on New Years Eve (my worst New Years Eve too).

150. White wedding – not! (12/08/05) - Maria, Philadelphia, Age 26

My boyfriend proposed on Valentine’s Day 2002. I immediately started making preparations for the big day. My family and I got the hall, the flowers, my gown, the whole nine yards. We were to be married the week before Christmas, with the whole wedding in the Christmas theme.

The day finally comes, and my fiance has been so sweet and loving and attentive, how could I possibly think anything would go wrong. Our families were assembled in the church, fully decorated in beautiful red and white. I’m in the back room of the church waiting for my cue to walk down the aisle -- in front of 250 guests, mind you -- and then the door opens and my future father-in-law gives me the shock of a lifetime. It seems that my beloved has decided to POSTPONE the wedding because he felt he wasn’t ready to settle down. I was in total shock. I must have stood there for a good 5 minutes before I could speak.

My bridesmaids just stood there looking at me, as if waiting for me to go crazy. I simply stood up, walked out the nearest door, took a cab home, thankfully the cabbie felt bad for me and let me go on the fare. I went to my bedroom and just sat on my bed. I just simply wanted to die. I had never felt so low in my life.

Well, to make a long story short, my family simply made an announcement in church, and what few people were left were invited back to enjoy the dinner at MY reception, of course, without the bride and groom, that is!!!! Well, I have since recovered from that ordeal and to my surprise my ex has started sniffing around again. Yeah, right!

149. Crazy Christmas bum (12/08/05) - Nick, San Diego, CA, Age 22

Well, the morning of Christmas Eve I spent at the San Diego County Jail, trying to bail my older brother out. To my dismay, I could not afford the $10,000 fee the bondsman wanted to post bail. So I went to the nearest bar and had a beer before making the drive back home.

As I left the bar, I noticed one of the many downtown bums grumbling to himself and looking pretty fuckin' miserable. So I figured since I wasn't going to have a merry Christmas, maybe I could help someone else have a better holiday. I offered to buy him a drink or food, and soon found out that this bastard was feral! He swung at me and missed. With his second swing he caught me with a screwdriver just inside my left arm under my bicep.

This lovely event was followed by an ambulance ride and a 2-hour surgery. But the bum got his comeuppance before going to the hospital. I managed to knock the fucker off his feet and plant a couple of steel toes square in his mouth.

148. Forgotten B-day boy (12/08/05) - Adam, Reno, NV, Age 20

My birthday is December 23rd and my family doesn't like me as much as my brother, so when Christmas and my B-day roll around, I don’t get much. This year (2004) Christmas was the worst (and I hope it stays that way). I had to work my birthday which has never happened before, and when I walked out of the office, I found my car had been stolen. They never found my car and no one said happy birthday to me (they forgot entirely). From now on I’m staying home with my girlfriend and having sex all day.

147. Girlfriend in a coma (12/08/05) – Mike, Alaska, Age 22

December 3, my girlfriend was on her way to my place to see me, and apparently hit a pothole, got turned sideways in the road, and got T-boned at about 65 mph. Well, she should have died that night but didn't. So I spent Christmas beside her bed, while she lay lifeless, in a coma, with the right side of her skull removed and her brain swollen out the side of her head. She is still in a coma and doctors say she won't ever come out. She is alive, but only by machines. Fuck Christmas. That is what I will always remember Christmas being.

146. Please don’t kill Mommy (12/08/05) - Heather, Maryland, Age 35

My worst Christmas was one of many. My family always had huge fights on Christmas or around it, throwing the decorated tree over, etc. Well, I was very young, maybe 5, my little brother was 3 and my older brother was 8. My parents got into it again. We were all standing in the doorway to my parents' room begging daddy to "please don't kill Mommy" on Christmas Eve. He was standing over her with a sledge hammer. That year was the real kicker.

My grandmother and uncle came over with presents. My parents never could afford really good gifts or what we wanted, but my grandmother and uncle did. Well, to top off what my father did (he left that night and didn't come back all day), my mother took all of our presents that came from my grandmother and uncle and threw them down the front steps (two flights). We had gotten a television from them, and many gifts that we really wanted. The neighbor kids never forgot it and proceeded to torment us until we grew up and moved out.

145. Thirty years of misery (12/08/05) - Anonymous, Virginia, Age 37

I can divide my life into before and after. Before Christmas when I was 8, things were not perfect but I was pretty happy and secure. Since then, my life has been 30 years of hell on earth.

Christmas morning when I was 8, I ran downstairs to see the presents under the tree. The only "present" was my mom's dead body. She had killed herself by laying on top of the presents and drinking Drano. It was a horrible mess. I screamed and screamed until my dad and my brother came.

My dad was never the same after that and wasn't able to work anymore. Mostly he just sat and stared at nothing. He died a few years ago. My aunt (my mom's sister) came to live with us and take care of us. She hated us for driving our mom to kill herself. I don't know what we did and I still don't know why my mom killed herself.

I had to go to a special school after that and I never did finish high school. Ever since that Christmas, I have suffered from horrible migraines and my face and body twitch out of control. I live alone and work as a receptionist in a group home. I don't really have anything to do and they only gave me the job out of charity.

I have never had a relationship with a man and will die a virgin. I will never have a family or friends. My brother killed himself when he was 22. Even though my dad hardly ever talked, I miss him so much. For 30 years I have cried myself to sleep every night. Now I feel so tired. I hate my tiny lonely room and I am so tired of TV. I am afraid to die because I know I will suffer torment for making my mom want to die.

144. Christmas crime confession (12/08/05) - Carmon, Virginia, Age 28

Last Christmas I had to do something I thought I would never have to do. I mean the thing is, the year before, my 5 children and I had NOTHING for Christmas…absolutely nothing. I have never committed a crime in my life, but I had to do it. I had to. I was desperate.

See, I was at Wal-Mart and some one had left her purse hanging on one of the stalls. I was the only on in there. I thought about taking it. I waited. I stalled. I thought about my 4 precious girls and my little baby boy. I so wanted them to have Christmas like all the other kids. So, I looked around. I quietly opened the zipper of the purse, took out the billfold, looked inside and saw a large sum of cash. Without counting it, I stuffed it in my pocket. Later when I got home, I hid in my room and counted out $260.00. I had to do it, for my kids. I mean they had no dad, I have no other family. I had to do it.

143. Xtra Xmas misery (12/08/05) - Shane, US, Age 36

I got shitcanned from my job a week before Christmas, then my girl came clean and told me she was fucking her boss. We broke up. And here's when it really sucks: My sister was in a car accident and lost her baby, her scumbag husband got busted for buying blow, my best friend blew his brains out (he'd always hated the holidays), and I got shot in my leg by someone playing with his deer rifle. All the day before Christmas Eve. And to top it off, while I was in the hospital, a nurse gave me the wrong drug and I almost died. This Christmas I'm getting hammered and staying that way until January.

142. Slight misunderstanding (12/08/05) - Cinda, Knoxville, TN, Age 22

I was with my husband for just over 2 years and for our third Christmas together, I had been planning a vacation to Hawaii for him, all his brothers and sister, and his parents. This took a LOT of planning, and I had to be pretty secretive about the whole thing. I often had to leave the house to make phone calls and arrangements. All-in-all, it took over a month to plan. Little did I know, my husband misinterpreted my sneaking out and being secretive as having an affair.

One night, 3 days until Christmas, after all the arrangements were finally done, I came home to find my husband with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, an empty bottle of whiskey, and a note saying "I know about your affair. I can't believe you'd do this to me. I'd rather die than to share you or lose you to someone else, which apparently I have." To make things worse, his family ended up blaming me, saying I shouldn't have planned the trip behind his back, and I drove him to take his own life. Worst Christmas ever!

141. Ungrateful family (12/17/04) - Lynn, Baltimore, MD, Age 29

I am a stay-at-home mother with two kids, so other than what my husband makes, I have no money of my own. I scrimp and save pocket change starting in January so that when Christmas rolls around I can afford presents for my family. This year I had a little over $600.00 to spend (go, pocket change!) and got some really nice stuff for my husband, mother, our dogs and a few extras for the kids. I woke up Christmas morning and enjoyed watching everyone open their stuff, waiting till after the present frenzy to hit my own gifts. As I cleaned up the big fucking mess they left, I looked under the tree and noticed THERE WAS NOTHING THERE. I didn't even get a thank you. Not even a phone call from my mother. And to top it all off I got a "Why are you always thinking of yourself? You're SO selfish!" speech from my husband when I tried to take a shower before bringing him his THIRD piece of pie. Fuck it. Next year I'm spending it on myself.

140. X-mas inferno (12/17/04) - Michelle, New Jersey, Age 23

My 17th Christmas was probably the worst day of my life. It started off pretty well. My poor white trash parents finally came up with some money to buy us real presents instead of $20 worth of clothes from K-Mart. So I actually got a pretty decent stereo system. Then, what do you know, but 3:00am I am awaked by the sound of smoke alarms going off. Yes, my house is burned down on Christmas and all my presents, as well as all my other belongings, got destroyed. Those that didn't get burned got smoke and water damage. That's not the worst part, though. The worst part was the next week when we ran out of money to live in a hotel. All six of us had to reside in a trailer set up in my driveway while they rebuilt my house. As you can probably imagine, my family became the butt of all the jokes in my town and high school. "Trailer Trash" is still my nickname.

139. Rocky Mountain asshats (12/17/04) - Chris, Tennessee, Age 33

Well, the worst X-mas I spent was in Denver, CO. The temporary agency had screwed up my paycheck so I was broke. I starved during that X-mas. To make matters worse, people in Denver are such two-faced assholes and were constantly giving me a hard time. Fortunately I got out of there, and am quite happy again. But I shall never forget those asshats in Denver! If terrorists blew the whole town to hell and killed everyone, I would be SO happy!

138. Terminal cheer (12/17/04) - Jim, Arkansas, Age 26

Last Christmas I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and told that I would probably die sometime around that time this year. My family keeps trying to keep me cheerful, but sorry that I don't feel like decking the damn halls.

137. Jingle balls (12/17/04) - Peter, Plymouth, Age 33

My Greek family was celebrating a traditional gathering. Wife, dog and everyone else was downstairs so I went into the bathroom to have a moment alone. My mother-in-law barges in just as I start to finish. She screams, I yanked up the zipper. The ambulance is called. I had to have 9 stitches in the ball sack, plus spend X-mas evening and X-mas day in the hospital. I hope they cancel X-mas.

136. Sleeping in a Wal-Mart parking lot (12/17/04) - Della, Tennessee, Age 22

After losing my job and being abandoned by my parents for being a lesbian, I couldn't afford rent and had to spend Christmas Eve sleeping in my car at a Wal-Mart’s parking lot.

135. Family sucks, mom can’t cook (12/17/04) - Marie, Canada, Age 20

Since my real father is out of the picture from my early days, I have to endure my mother’s husband’s ugly face getting drunk and saying the most dumbass jokes ever. I’ve been ignored by his side of the family which we celebrate holidays with because my mom’s side of the family is at war with my mother for bloody stupid reasons. X-mas gifts always sucked and rarely ever I got something I wanted (last year I got the crappiest cell phone you can get on the market, just so then can track me down wherever I am). But I’m also treated like the worst piece of trash because I refused to get higher studies. Basically, I’m expected to be more than perfect by people who simply loath me. And I, like the miserable soul I am, always end up outside, in my room or in a vacant part of the house, alone, bored and usually starved because mom can’t cook...AT all!