Whoever did this is a demented son of a bitch.

I don't remember when I stopped believing in Santa Claus.

Honestly, I don't ever really remember starting to believe in him, either (does anyone?). But being that I had not one, but two deviant older brothers (Ed and Bryan), I was a kid that didn't have a lot of say in things like what I chose to believe. I was the youngest in the house, my job was simply to survive whatever came my way. Hell, Pharaoh was treated better than I was.

But of course they wouldn't f--k with our dog. I mean, he was a big scary German monster.

Er, shepherd. A big scary German Shepherd.

With an impending/rare Thursday off, I decided to head to a 10:00 pm Wednesday showing of the holiday horror flick, Krampus. Good word of mouth (plus a recommendation from my girl at the corner) led me to believe that this one was going to be a really good time at the movies. And it just might have been, had I not been completely f--king exhausted.

In fact, I'm only asking Santa for two things this year: a good night's sleep, and better judgement. Not necessarily in that order, either.

With a fully operational brain, this summary may have had holes in it, but going at about half-speed, here's all I gathered from Michael Dougherty's latest scary flick: A young boy, after basically telling Christmas to eat a giant gingerbread dick, unwittingly unleashes a yule-tide demon, the pissed-off horned giant, Krampus. See, ol' Krampy shows up to rip the jingle bells off any non-believing a-holes that are out there, and young Max's family is comprised entirely of said a-holes. And what starts as an epic storm and the appearance of some creepy-ass snowmen, quickly evolves into the disappearance of his sister...and even more creepy-ass snowmen.

Oh, and Christmas monsters. Lots of and lots of f--king Christmas monsters.

Initially, I was totally on board with watching some Christmas-themed creepy shit scare non-believers into believing (or just punish them), but along the way I got all Scroogey with my f--ks. While there were certainly some cool bits here and there, and the presence of Adam Scott and Toni Collette made everything oddly legit, it all didn't really add up to too much to me (not sure about the other guy in the theater, though I could have turned and asked him...f--ker).

Sure, at about the 45-minute mark, I'd have rather been sound asleep in that strange man's arms than fight the good fight to continue watching tiny gingerbread men try to murder Champ Kind, but more pressing than my personal problems is the fact that Krampus simply didn't go far enough. In either direction. What could have been f--king hilarious, or potentially scary as f--k, Krampus downplays (most) everything and opts for staying somewhere in the middle (though, it's hard to laugh and/or be terrified when half your face is asleep...so...yeah). Maybe a re-watch is needed, but no bullshit, I think I've seen enough.

Also in that category of things no one needs to do ever again, are the Yays and Boos. These two have been working on their Christmas lists, but let's just put it out there: hopefully everything there asking for was the shit that was on sale three weeks ago, or else, they're f--ked.

This kid looks like seven-eights every son Adam Sandler has
ever had in a movie, and the last bit that strung out kid
from The Babadook. So, yeah. Delightful young man.

Yaaaaaaaaay!

• Oh man, that was a badass opening! Tis the season...to be a scumbag.
• In a horror movie, there's nothing better than people you love to f--king hate. Or, in short form, future victims. And here? We've got some doozies (oh, and bonus points for[extra] douchey kids comprising our crew).
• Mystery package from DHL. DHL? F--king epic throwback to- wait. They're still a company? Awesome. I thought they were tipping us off that this took place in some form of Hell or something.
• Speaking of Hell, some of the creature design is pretty f--king frightening. That bear-thing was scary, Jack-in-the-Box even more so, but that Angel bitch? Yikes. A little heavy on the tongue, no?
• The little animated flashback was pretty rad. 
• Plink-plink-plink. Even though they terrify me with their awesomeness in real-life, I'm always up for some cinematic nail-gun action. 
• My favorite line/moment? It just might be, Aunt Dorothy. Finish it.
• That big walrusy bastard Krampus has two equally brilliant scenes, that I can boil down to just four words: roof jumping and chimney exiting. Big Yays on both.
• And finally, the ending. I'm not sure if I 100% get it (or was 100% conscious), but I really dug the final thirty seconds of this film. 

Tom is actually a pretty cool Dad, outside of being
the most laid-back dude in the history of time.

Booooooooo!

• Twenty minutes of previews and all I saw were two things: Jack and shit.
• Even though I loved them as victims, can I tell you that their in-laws are the f--king worst? That kid hadn't even opened his fat yet mouth and I wanted Krampus to devour him whole. Slowly.
• Who reads a kid's letter to Santa out loud? Bitches, that's who.
• So...the worst f--king snow storm anyone has ever seen, right? Welp, might as well let our teenage daughter out in it. Assuming you don't die in this blizzard, be a dear and wish a Merry Christmas to your stoner boyfriend's yule log, okay?
• Sorry if I forgot, but what the Hell was in those mystery packages that DHL delivered? Did that shit even matter?
• Howard, you dick. Of course you're going to fall asleep during watch. Actually, I blame Tom (Scott) for not assuming this.
• Dude, that dog was pretty f--king useless. My pup Dodger loses his shit if someone knocks on a door across the street. This furry f--ker is cool with just about everything.
• The elves sucked. Honestly, I find Buddy the Elf creepier than these art-school rejects
• And finally, every time I see (or hear) about a Christmas-themed scary movie, I think back to my childhood viewing of Silent Night, Deadly Night. If I'm lucky, I was a very mature seven when I saw that movie that had Santa killing everybody with an axe. Guess who made me watch that? F--king older brothers are the worst.

Currently I'm responsible for keeping up the illusion of Santa with my own two kids, and hopefully Matty and Violet will believe for a little longer than I did. But if something happens, or some little f--ker spoils it for either of them, it shouldn't be too traumatic, right? I mean, even if you stop believing in Santa, those presents under the tree are still real, aren't they? Or was I asleep when Krampus murdered presents, too?

Sure a giant German monster can scare the Hell out of you, but no presents? Terrifying.


Especially when your older brothers tell you that no presents is exactly what you're getting for Christmas that year.

A-holes.