3 Uncomfortable Christmas Songs

It’s December 24th which means you’ve been bombarded with Christmas music for at least the last 24 days and therefore are about ready to hang yourself on your neighbour’s christmas lights. I swear If I have to listen to Jingle Bell rock one more time I’m going to start calling in bomb threats. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep it in the spirit of Christmas. There has to be a way to make a bomb using old decorations. You can make a bomb out of anything.

You'll be picking up tinsel for weeks.
You’ll be picking up tinsel for weeks.

As I work in retail, as I’m sure many of you do, I have no choice but to listen to the same ten tunes performed by five different pop starts on repeat for 8 hours a day. It’s all enough to make me glad that last christmas when Taylor Swift gave her man her heart “the very next day he threw it away”, because fuck that song. The only thing I’ve gained from the last three weeks of musical sleigh rides and halls being decked with poisonous plants is an idea of how prisoners stuck in Guantanamo Bay feel and a realization that a lot of the songs clogging the air ways this time of year are actually pretty creepy when you actually take a second to ask yourself: what the fuck did I just hear?

‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ –  Date Rape Delights Generations.

I’m hardly the first person to point out how creep this holiday favourite is but I’m always taken aback when I first hear it every winter. The whole premise of the song is that a man has invited his date back to his place and he’ll be damned if he lets her walk out that door before he gets to plow her driveway if you know what I mean. For the sake of her health of course.

What starts out as playful banter that might have very well been the woman playing hard to get soon turns into something far more sinister. Originally written by Broadway composer Frank Loesser the song was supposedly meant to be flirtation between a couple who’s desires to pork long into the night are stinted by the worry of what people will say. This interpretation is undermined by the scores earliest casting of the duet’s roles as ‘Wolf’ and ‘Mouse’. Baby It’s Cold Outside isn’t a playful conversation lightly examining sexual repression but the recordings of a sexual predator talking circles around his intended victim.

The Mouse repeatedly voices her decision to leave while the wolf makes excuses to keep her there or flat out ignores her protests in favour of paying her creepy compliments. All assumably while pressing his erect penis into her back as she tries to shrug her coat on. She occasionally does imply that she’d like to stay but always brings it back to the “buuuut… I gotta go” likely for the same reason most girls don’t just tell a stranger to fuck off after telling him for the seventh time, “no you cannot have my phone number”. She doesn’t know this guy well enough to gage whether telling him to piss off because she’s not going to fuck him will end with her body rolled up in a rug in the trunk of his car.

Well, that escalated quickly.
Well, that escalated quickly.

I really can’t stay – Baby it’s cold outside
I’ve got to go away – Baby it’s cold outside
This evening has been – Been hoping that you’d drop in
So very nice – I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice
My mother will start to worry – Beautiful, what’s your hurry
My father will be pacing the floor – Listen to the fireplace roar

Pretty innocent so far. Although, one does have to wonder how old this girl is if she still lives with her parents. This song was written before 20’s were being crushed under the weight of student loans after all.

The neighbours might think – Baby, it’s bad out there
Say, what’s in this drink – No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how – Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell – I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell
I ought to say no, no, no, sir – Mind if I move a little closer

Aaaaannnnd he’s spiked her drink. At worst he’s roofied her. At best he’s plying her up with liquor she never asked for. He ignored her question completely and instead tries to “move a little closer”. On another note ladies and gentlemen, here’s a big red flag that you’re date might not be the most savoury of sorts: cabs refuse to come to their house. Also he uses the word ‘swell’.

I simply must go – Baby, it’s cold outside
The answer is no – Ooh baby, it’s cold outside
This welcome has been – I’m lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm — Look out the window at that storm
My sister will be suspicious – Man, your lips look so delicious

“The answer is no” is a pretty forceful way to say that she does not consent. She’s uncomfortable, irritated, and probably scared as shit. Telling a person “man, your lips look delicious” has to be one of the worst ways to quell someones fears that you might rape them.

There’s bound to be talk tomorrow – Making my life long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied – If you caught pneumonia and died
I really can’t stay – Get over that old out Ahh, but it’s cold outside

This last verse is some mastery of subtlety on both sides. She warns him that there will “be talk tomorrow”, from her most likely to the authorities, to which he responds with a threat of her dying of pneumonia after he’s had his way with her and tosses her outside into the snow where no one will find her.

‘Santa Baby’ – Eartha Kit Wants The D for Christmas

Is no one else thrown off by hearing Santa Claus called “baby”? It’s weird isn’t it? Who in their night mind decides that a jolly old man who commits mass, annual, B&Es is the kind of guy that you should call “baby”? I don’t think even think Mrs. Claus calls Santa “baby”.

It’s more than just the uses of the traditionally romantic pet name “baby”. The whole song reads like a sting of innuendo. You’re supposed to leave Santa milk and cookies, maybe some carrots for the reindeer, not double entendres.

Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, For me.
Been an awful good girl,
Santa baby,
so hurry down the chimney tonight.

I could pretend that that was perfectly innocent were it not for the flirty vocal stylings and of Eartha Kit. There’s something fundamentally wrong about sexualizing Saint Nicholas. For one thing he’s a Saint and the catholics are pretty notoriously anti-sex and anti-fun. For another, if I were to make a list of beloved childhood figures that I never want to see tainted by rule 34 the top three would be: Santa Claus, Lunette The Clown, and the entire Wizarding World from Harry Potter. Understandably this is why I avoid most forms of fan fiction.

"If they don't have sex than how do wizards have babies?" "Magic. Obviously."
“If they don’t have sex than how do wizards have babies?” “Magic. Obviously.”

Santa baby, a 54 convertible too, Light blue.
I’ll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

So that’s her game. She’s trying to seduce old Kris Kringle into bringing her outlandishly expensive goods instead of toys this christmas.

Think of all the fun I’ve missed,
Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you’ll check off my Christmas list,

Are they lovers? Has she been saving herself for Santa Claus? Why the hell else would he care how many boys she’s “kissed” this year? Santa seems like a pretty fair and progressive guy. There’s no way he participates in slut shaming.

Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with a duplex,
And checks. Sign your ‘X’ on the line,
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight. Cutie? Cutie!

Santa Claus is an old (read: ancient) man with a belly that shakes like a great bowl of jelly, a bushy, white beard, and no fashion sense. Then man can be described as festive or whimsical. Never cute. She is really piling it on here.

Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With some decorations bought at Tiffany’s,
I really do believe in you,
Let’s see if you believe in me,

Have you no pride woman? You’re digging for gold with Santa Claus.

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, A ring.
I don’t mean on the phone,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,

And that last request is were she learned the tough lesson that many mistresses before and after her have had to accept. The married man you’re fucking will probably never leave his wife for you no matter how often he insists he’ll end his marriage and run away with you. He has elves to think of.

‘I’m Getting Nuttin’ For Christmas’ – Chronicles The Early Years Of A Serial Killer


I’m not sure what the original intent was for this tune. It was either meant to be an ode to the naughty list or a way for passive aggressive parents to threaten Santa wont come if their kids don’t stop being little shits. Whatever the initial basis was supposed to be it was surely written from the mad recordings of some severely disturbed murder’s therapy sessions.

I broke my bat on Johnny’s head;
Somebody snitched on me.

Hitting the ground there eh kid? The little bastard broke a bat over someone’s head. Breaking a bat is no easy feat seeing as bats are meant to hit balls hurling towards people twenty miles an hour. Most adults couldn’t break a bat. In order for a child to go Hulk like that he’d have spent weeks or months preparing his batters arm.

I hid a frog in sister’s bed;
Somebody snitched on me.
I spilled some ink on Mommy’s rug;
I made Tommy eat a bug;
Bought some gum with a penny slug;
Somebody snitched on me.

There’s our mandatory tortures animals criteria met. Of course making other children eat bugs shows he’s moved on to human torture. I did have to look up “penny slug” and it turns out our future psycho is also involved in counterfeit money operations. At least he’s not a one trick criminal I guess.

I put a tack on teacher’s chair
Somebody snitched on me.
I tied a knot in Susie’s hair
Somebody snitched on me.

I like how he thinks his biggest problem is that “somebody snitched” on him. This kid feels no remorse.

The narrator is little Leigh Emersion isn't it?
The narrator is little Leigh Emerson isn’t it?

I did a dance on Mommy’s plants
Climbed a tree and tore my pants
Filled the sugar bowl with ants
Somebody snitched on me.

So this just a signed confession of all the shitty things this kid has done this year. He obviously took gleeful delight in dancing on his mother’s garden or why else would he have done it. It was probably as close as he could get to dancing on her grave seeing how she’s still alive. How he thinks accidentally tearing his pants is as bad as filling a sugar bowl with ants (probably of the fire variety) is beyond me.

I won’t be seeing Santa Claus;
Somebody snitched on me.
He won’t come visit me because
Somebody snitched on me.
Next year I’ll be going straight;
Next year I’ll be good,
Just wait
I’d start now, but it’s too late;
Somebody snitched on me.

He clearly doesn’t understand how Santa works if he thinks someone needed to tell Santa what a raging sociopath he’s been this year. And he’s still got until the end of the month to ruin everyones personal property and feeling of security before he starts his New Years resolution.

Wait a second. Is it just me or does it sound an awful lot like this child is plotting revenge on Santa? He’s gonna be good all year to lure him into his home so he can extract sweet, sweet, bloody vengeance. You just know he’s gonna be asking for a new baseball bat for Christmas.


My 16 Year Old Self On Going Topless

Ok, I’m gonna level with you. This month has been cray-cray-zy for me. I usually don’t have any social events (or interaction at all) but all August there seems to be one thing after another which will conclude this Thursday when I go to see Jack White with my mom. That’s right. A rock concert with my mother. I’m cool like that.

Anyway I just haven’t had a lot of down time between weekend engagements and everyone at work other than me getting vacation time this month so I dropped the ball this week. Plus I honesty had no idea what to write. I’m sorry. I suck.

Anyway… this past Sunday was the 5th annual Go Topless March. For those unfamiliar it’s exactly what the name suggests. A topless march.

The idea behind the Topless March, of which are held in over 50 different cities, is that in the spirit of equality it’s only right that women should be afforded the same right to shed the confines of clingy shirts and unbreathable bras on a hot summer day. The same right that men enjoy without being harassed or labeled a slut.

This slut knows what I’m talking about. Bra’s just don’t breath.

Public breast feeding is another part of the issue. Though in most places in the western world nursing mothers are protected by the law and have the right to breast feed their infant in a public space, this doesn’t stop people from staring, or asking mother’s to leave restaurants or parks because how dare she use her breasts for their intended purpose. For a split second I totally saw her nipple and everything. Everyone has nipples people. Why are they so much scarer on a woman’s chest than a man’s?

It’s not even so much men who make it impossible. Other women are just as bad. If we’re so quick to judge each other based on a little side boob can you image how we’d react to full boob? As firmly against slut shaming as I am, sometimes I see a girl with her bum hanging out her shorts and I have to silence that little voice in my head that says “skank”. We’ve been conditioned by societal standards to be ashamed of our bodies and sexuality and demean any girl who isn’t. This is totally uncool ladies and I think we can all agree that we need to check ourselves when checking out other women.

Most people are surprised to learn that it is legal for women in B.C. and other provinces and some U.S. states to be topless in public. If I was  less body conscious and less likely to be gawked at, or have my picture taken for being topless, maybe this would be a right I would exercise. As it stands the looks and odd comments I get for sunbathing off my balcony in a bikini make me uncomfortable so it’s unlikely I’d go walking down a busy city street without anything covering the top half of my body, but a clothing optional beach after a drink or two… who knows. I might not want to be topless all summer but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have the option.

Only one of these peoples futures wouldn't be ruined by toples
Only one of these five people’s futures aren’t put at risk by topless photos taken during spring break.

Not to sound like a hipster activist or anything, but I was on wise to this cause before it was cool.  I actually wrote an essay on it back in the 11th grade. We had to pick a controversial topic to write an argument for and I figured abortion and gay marriage would be done to death and I should pick something no one had done before. After a little looking I decided on female toplessness. I’m going to share with you this essay written by my 16 year old self complete with added humorous captions! I don’t remember what mark I got on it but it was at least a 5/6.

My Body My Business

By Camille Morgan

It’s a hot summer day and you’re out for a stroll. There are people everywhere enjoying they’re day off and soaking up some rays. A couple on a walk through the park. Some kids playing catch. A man trying to beat the heat by abandoning his shirt for the day. Your typical July afternoon. Now, imagine that instead of a man walking down the street with a bare torso it’s a woman.

On July 19th, 1991 that is exactly what twenty year old Guelph University student Gwen Jacob did. Jacob was arrested and charged on grounds of committing an indecent act. She was convicted by the Ontario Court of Justice and after turned to the Ontario Court of Appeal. Five years later in 1996 the court ruled in favour of Jacob declaring that female toplessness was not an indecent act as described in section 173(1)(a) of the criminal code of Canada (Guelph’s Hot Days of Summer)

Whether or not women should have the right to bare their breasts in public is an ongoing debate. Some see it as inappropriate and other’s as empowering. Female toplessness is an issue of equality, choice, respect and tolerance. Confidence in yourself and body is something to be admired and nurtured, not discouraged. 

If men and women are supposed to have equal rights why would 50.4% of the population be neglected from a right that the other half enjoy. Some argue that the exposer of breasts is “nudity”. Well, in that case shouldn’t men be forced to cover up as well? After all technically men do have breasts. The word ‘breast’ refers to the upper region of the torso where the nipple is located.

Isn't it weird how hair makes a nipple seem less offensive?
Isn’t it weird how hair makes the nipple seem less offensive?

In a 2003 interview on the topic Alex Artful-Dodger, vice president of the University of Toronto’s Student Administrative Council said, “While I admit there is a difference between a man going topless and a woman going topless, it is unfair to impose outdated morality on women.” (Busting Out All Over). 

The results shown by Gallup Canada’s 1992 national survey revealed that women were drastically more opposed to the idea of public toplessness than men. According to Romayne Smith-Fullerton, who teaches a course on women in the media at the University of Western Ontario, “Women all the time are seeking the approval of strangers”(Women Keeping Tops On…). The overall opposition of  female toplessness is likely to influence women to further condemn the act. A large part of women’s disapproval is fuelled by societies unwillingness to accept a woman who is comfortable in her sexuality and body. Another deciding factor is the fear of  objectification by men they may endure.

In 2005 another national survey gave a more in depth look into Canadian attitudes about both sexuality and public nudity (The Canadian Journal of Human Sexuality). As in 1992, women were more strongly opposed to female toplessness than men. The results also showed that those with a higher degree of education were more likely to be in favour of female toplessness. 55% of those with a high school education verses only 37% of University graduates were opposed. Enough said.

"If you don't agree with me  studies say you're stupid."
“If you don’t agree with me studies say you’re stupid.”

The same 2005 survey mentioned above revealed that those who attend religious worship regularly were on average about 30% more likely to think female toplessness should be illegal. The heavy influence of the church in western society teaches that the body is the enemy of the soul. Nudity, or naturism, is wrong. Being exposed leads to nothing but feelings of lust. This is something any naturalist will tell you is simply untrue. Nudism is a non-sexual practice meant to connect the spirit to nature and bring clearity. Many religions practice being ‘skyclad’, wearing noting but the sky, including: jain, wicca and other pagan religions*I told you I was into this shit*, and even multiple christian groups (Dare to Bare).  

One place where it is acceptable for a woman to bare her breasts is in the entertainment industry. It’s impossible not to come across a naked woman while channel surfing on a Friday night. With the constant exposure to nude female images you would think we would be completely desensitized to seeing a half naked woman at the park, or at the beach. Society has sexualized the female form so we no longer see breasts as just another part of the body like the a stomach or leg even though they are not sexual organs in nature. It’s a result of the culture we live in. In victorian England if you were to see a woman’s ankles it was considered indecent.  In middle eastern cultures it’s the same with a girls face. It we today were to decide that ears were suggestive and everyone were to cover them up in public suddenly if you were to see someones ears it would be considered erotic.

Oh yeah baby. You cup that ear.
Oh yeah baby. You cup that ear.

Some are concerned about exposing children to ‘nudity’ having negative effects. Young children are initially very comfortable with nudity and have to be taught why it’s necessary to cover up. If we were to grow up around topless women there wouldn’t be a problem. If we were used to seeing women in that state it would be considered the norm, no different then if you were to see a half naked man out for a run. 

There are parts of the world that do accept female toplessness. Topless sunbathing at public beaches is a well exercised practice for both genders at public beaches in France and Spain as well as many other European countries. Even in Canada female toplessness is legal in Ontario (1996), Saskatchewan (1998) and British Columbia (2000) though most choose not to exercise this right.

How has Quebec not jumped on that bandwagon?
How has Quebec not jumped on that bandwagon?

And of course toplessness is a part of life for Caribbean nation’s. People against such things at home are willing to shed some clothes while vacationing while on a tropical beach, “Somebody may have an attitude in Canada, but then their attitudes go out the window after six margaritas on the beach right?” said Psychology Professor Serge Desmarais of the University of Guelph and co author of The Canadian Journal of Human Sexuality in a 2007 interview (Women Keeping Shirts On…).

For many women being able to be topless is liberating and empowering and it’s a shame that our society discourages us embracing that right without fear of being scrutinized and condemned. Fair or not, even though we have the right as women to be shirtless in British Columbia don’t expect to see women casually walking down the street or lounging at the park bare chested this summer.


Fischtein, Dayna S., Edward S. Herold, and Serge Desmaris. “Canadian Attitudes Toward Female Topless Behaviour: A National Survey.” The Canadian Journal of Human Sexuality 2005th ser. 14 (2005): 63-75. Sex Information & Education Council of Canada. Web. 18 Apr. 2010.

Baute, Nicole. “Women Keeping Shirts On; Gwen Jacobs’ Topless Stroll Didn’t Set Trend.” Guelph Mercury [Guelph Ontario] 25 May 2007. Print.

 Benson, Lain, and Brad Miller. “Guelph’s Hot Days of Summer.” Culturalrenewal.ca. 2000. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

 Crawford, Trish. “Busting Out All Over.” Toronto Star 15 Sept. 2003. Print.

 “Dare To Go Bare.” Religioustolerance.org. Ontario Consultants of Religious Tolerance, 2005. Web. 20 Apr. 2010.

Even at 16 I was opinionated as hell. And kind of pretentious. 

Suffering Through Senior’s Day

If you’ve been following my blog or even just checking in occasionally you know I work a shitty retail job to keep myself off the streets. Now, because my job is at one location in a corporate chain of misery and cheap labour we have ridiculously inconvenient and inhuman sales and promotions. One of these promotions is Seniors Day. Unlike some events this promotion happens every Thursday of my life.

You already know how I feel about old people. I do have to deal with them on any given shift but Senior’s Day gives them a 20% off incentive to ruin my day. A 20% off incentive that I have to explain to half the senior’s who come in the store.

Where are your handlers?
Where are your handlers?

Apparently for some it’s not good enough that they get a discount on regular priced items but they want even more money off already marked down merchandise. Old people are cheap. An elderly man who’s english was questionable came in to buy paper towels and only paper towels. He asked “Senior Day?” and inquired through a sequence of gestures how much the 6 roll pack was after the discount which was $1.99. He then produces a dollar off coupon and I explain that the discount is only applicable to regular priced items and entering the coupon will cancel out his 20% off. Of course he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t believe me so I have to show. After 5 more minutes of explaining why he can’t have both he tells me he doesn’t want them if it’s for anymore than $0.99.

At one point he tried to barter with a hand full of beans and two sticks of gum.
At one point he tried to barter with a hand full of beans and two sticks of gum.

I’ll repeat similar scenarios 4 more times before closing including one old couple who comes in every week to buy milk which is always on sale and always complains in a less than polite manner about not getting a discount like they did on their other items.

In their defence they do say memory is the first thing to go.
In their defence they do say memory is the first thing to go.

No matter what day it is I have at least a dozen people of all ages who need to be talked through their debit and or credit card transactions because 30 year old technology is hard but that number goes up considerably on Senior’s day. As does the number of people who get their granny panties in a twist over a 5cent charge for a plastic bag. They don’t care if it’s meant as a deterrent to help the environment or that all the proceeds go to charity. The way they see it, “it’s not your place to push our political and moral positions on the public”. I’ve actually had an old guy say that to me. I can see why he doesn’t care about the environment and all the plastic bags overpopulating landfills. He’s gonna die soon. It’s not like he has to deal with the climate change, cluster fuck he’s leaving behind. An old lady once had the audacity to call in to my manager to complain about me for charging her for a plastic bag. She spent 10 minutes yelling at a stranger over the phone all over a nickel. If you don’t want to buy a bag re-use one of the hundreds of bags that are stuffed in your closet at home for fuck’s sake.

There are children in developing countries that would love to have your olf bags.
There are children in Italy that would love to have your old bags to carry their groceries in.

That’s all pretty typical stuff for any Senior’s Day but yesterday was something special. At my store every Thursday also happens to be an order day so there’s usually extra staff on to help unload the 8 carts of crap that have to go out. This week however one of our manager’s was on vacation so we were already gonna be down one extra person but then someone called in sick and we were terribly understaffed. On a good week as a supervisor I don’t have time to take half my breaks if I want to get anything done but this week I still didn’t manage to get anything done, do to my closing cashier calling me every 5-10 minutes for some reason or another. I get that he’s still fairly new but it has been 2 months and he should be fully capable of replacing receipt paper by now.

Well, I'm stumped.
Well, I’m stumped.

So since we’re busy as balls and my cashier has no clue how to ring someone through in a timely fashion due to an apparent desire to befriend anyone who approaches his counter I spent most of my shift defusing his line of overheated and therefore cranky customers. He also has a very shallow well of working knowledge about our policies and procedures so if someone had a return, or gift card to top up, or even a question, I had to boomerang my ass back to the registers. Even the simple act of getting change is an ordeal. Before getting change for my own till (which rarely happens when you’re the back up) I explicitly asked if he needed anything to which he said “no”. Of course as soon as I get back he tells me he needs dimes. Once I get him his dimes and find my way back to my cart of vitamins he pages me to tell me he needs fives. Buddy can’t even ask for change right and I had to go back and forth 3 times in 6 minutes.

If I was a Pokemon trainer, he’d be my Psyduck.

I’m so lucky my other co-workers are super studs and completely self reliant or I would have had a shit fit. Not that I didn’t audibly groan out disdainful ‘no’s and obscenities every time my name sounded over the P.A. because I did much to the amusement of my other wonderful and slightly sadistic co-workers. A girl can’t help it if her automatic response to conflict is tell people to “suck a dick”. I am what I am.

Back to the ancient folks. At the end of the night I haphazardly managed to finish all of my duties leading up to closing with minutes to spare before I got to close those doors and refuse people service. I thought I finally had a chance to catch my breath but I was wrong.

Oh so very wrong...
Oh so very wrong…

While passing on my way to the back a little while prior I had taken notice of the little old asian woman trying to get my cashier to help her decipher if the battery in her hand matched whatever clock thing was in her other hand. I had taken notice because he’s taken out the battery from the packaging which policy says is a no-no and I told him she was supposed to purchase before he could open it.

When I emerged 10 min later to close the back entrance I noticed she was still there this time with a guy in line behind her. When I came back there was a full blown line and this lady was still going I don’t know what the fuck with that battery. We’ve 8 minutes before closing and I have a line of 5 people all behind this old lady who was making a fuss about this battery not working and wanting him to get her a different one. I don’t know why this thing took so long to sort out but I have a hunch it was her complete lack of understanding of how batteries work. I jumped in to get shit moving and she didn’t seem to comprehend anything I told her. I’m still not sure if it was a language barrier or a senile barrier but I’m leaning more towards the later.

Based on the old timer she wanted the battery for I doubt she even knows what year it is.
Based on the old timer she wanted the battery for I doubt she knows what year it is.

Even after refunding her she still didn’t want to leave. With minutes before midnight I had to open another till to get people the fuck out and when everything was said and done she was still loitering around the exit but still very much in the store. It took two announcements that we were closed and another customer who took pity on my telling her to get out to finally get her to leave.

As a general rule, if the stores automatic lights dim, you should probably fucking leave.
As a general rule, if the stores automatic lights dim, you should probably get the fuck out.