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December 12, 2014
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Every New Yorker hates SantaCon. Even more than we hate each other. Which is a bona fide Christmas miracle.

SantaCon.jpg

Nightmare.

New York is a city divided right now. It’s been a bitter, fractious year. Protests against the NYPD indicate a seriously broken relationship between the city’s people and its police force. Foreign billionaires buy up empty luxury apartments while affordable housing unit residents are forced to enter their homes through separate poor doors. Women cry out against catcalling, while men cry out, “Daaamn that butt.”

That’s why I’m so grateful that in these divided times, all New Yorkers can come together this holiday season for one thing: hating SantaCon.

Do you know what SantaCon is? Oh mama. SantaCon is where every bridge-and-tunnel asshole from three states meets up with a couple thousand NYU kids majoring in alcoholism for a daylong pub crawl through the city of New York. They pick a neighborhood in the greatest city in the world and destroy it.

Every single New Yorker hates it. Even more than we hate each other.

As New Yorkers, we should be grateful for SantaCon for bringing us together in loathing. It’s a Christmas miracle, really. Native New Yorkers hate the wave of marauding, vomitous Long Islanders, and so do the police who usually brutalize those native New Yorkers. Rich I-bankers hate them for out-bro-ing them at the bro bars, and parents hate it when their kids see Santa pissing on a police car. Women hate SantaCon for groping us on the subway, and men hate SantaCon for calling them faggots for carrying groceries.

It really doesn’t matter what walk of life you’re from, every citizen of the Big Apple hates seeing a dozen-Santa brawl in a public playground.

So my Christmas wish is that every New Yorker, rich or poor, black or white, man or woman, takes a moment to realize, “Hey. We have our differences, but we’re all in this together. We all want to throw SantaCon into the Gowanus Canal.”

And then we do that. We throw SantaCon in the Gowanus Canal, and we watch as they get washed out to sea to call the dolphins faggots, and then we get back to being the best place in the whole world. So Santa Claus, if you’re real, please grant this wish.

But don’t do it in person. We’ve got enough of you to deal with.

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