This was the best Christmas EVER.

I was wondering what the hell I was going to write about, and I realized that I hadn't written at length about what was, seriously, the best Christmas I've had in 32 years on this planet.

It wasn't because of anything I got, and I don't mean that in some grubby, wannabe-hippie, anti-consumerism way. I got some good things this year: a hooker-stickin' blade, cyanide in a Binaca spritzer, a baseball bat with railroad spikes hammered into it...this was a good year for me. Don't get confused.

No, this was the best Christmas I've had because of what my brother received. Now, to fully understand the wolf's den that is our family, maybe some Freudian background about his childhood is in order.

Early on, we knew we were destroying him, and it made us giggle. One day when he was maybe 3 or so, he was told by our parents that he couldn't do something, so he started running out of the room screaming, "You suck! You weawwy suck!" I started laughing, so he glared at me and yelled, "You suck too, Gwegwee!" That was when I knew he was gonna be okay.

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One of our favorite pastimes during parties was to...well, to give Travis brain damage. Travis was a big fan of the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, so we improvised a game where he would try to attack me with his Megazord, and I would send him flying across the living room by hitting him with a hard pillow. I know that sounds like hyperbole, but this was one of those pillows where you could "pack" the stuffing, and it would be like getting hit with a goddamn flail. There were quite a few times I thought I'd hurt him, and he got up giggling, ready to run back at me.

From Pictures

From Pictures

I think my favorite thing of all-time has to be the zombie game, though. It was simple enough. You'd be sitting watching television with him, or playing video games, and out of nowhere you'd stick your arms out, get an intense dead stare in your eyes, and try to attack Travis. He'd run out of the room screaming, "Mom, mom! Greg turned into a zombie!" Well, mom knows this game too, so she'd do the same thing, and you'd hear him scream and run out of the room. "Dad, dad! Mom and Greg both turned into zombies!" "Urrrrr!" "Ahhhhh!" And then you'd find him barricaded in his room half an hour later. That was the best.

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So, you kind of get the impression of a kid who's maybe a little weird. Maybe a bit off the beaten path. Somebody who likes offbeat gifts, perhaps. Well, he got a couple this year.

My mother is already a notoriously bad gift-giver. Like, if it's going to embarrass you or make you look corny, it's yours. Gift-wrapped, no less. I honestly don't know when that started, either, because I remember getting some really kick-ass gifts from her over the years. Either way...it ain't good now.

So let's just go straight to Christmas morning. He unwraps a box cutter knife and some work-related stuff. Good. Great. Guys tend to love that shit, because we're too retarded to buy it for ourselves. We'd walk around in tattered rags at work, if left to our own devices.

Then my 19 year-old brother, who has had girlfriends...who has been blackout drunk...who has had to make a lot of adult decisions...opens up this:

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A guitar shirt. That functions. You can...play it...while you...wear it.

My brother looked excited enough that I was going to nominate him for an Oscar.

But not to be outdone (by herself) my brother opens up his next gift, and it's like one Yates child after another. Just when you said it couldn't possibly get worse, it did.

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A Criss Angel magic kit.

My brother is 19. Without being crass, he has...known women. Does my mother expect him to be at his next party doing...tricks...going "Taadaa!"?

From Pictures

And that, my friends, is why Christmas 2011 was the best Christmas I could've ever asked for. Seeing the juxtaposition of his trying-to-look-excited face inside our grandma's house, versus the exasperated "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this shit?" rant in the car was...magical. I wish everyone I know could've been there. It was better than just about anything I've ever experienced.

Oh, by the way...since my brother's work has been slow lately, he's holding a magic show/benefit event at my house in a couple weeks. Call me for details. 708-TAA-DAAA.