Of course I judge people based on how they get their annual Christmas tree. There are three types of men in this world, and you can deduce exactly who they are by how they shop for their Christmas trees. Hear me out… First, there’s the manly manly men. You know, the ones who go to a farm with their own axe, survey the land, then proceed to find, chop down and then haul their own Christmas tree. I would say the Ron Swansons of the world. These are the guys that when shit hits the fan, you do not wanna fuck with.
Then there’s the second type. The semi-manly men. These are the ones who still go to the farm and pick out a real Christmas tree, however it’s already hanging there, pre-cut, and then they get one of the workers from the farm to package it up, tie it to the roof of their car, and then slip ’em a 5 for his troubles. I would 100% qualify myself into this category. I pride myself in having an authentic tree, however I do not have anywhere near the knowledge, strength or wherewithal to find it in the wild and chop it down myself. So I’ll save myself the headache and just get it pre-cut, and although I should… I have no shame about it. By the way… Balsam trees over Fraser Fir any day, fight me. Balsam’s are the O.G. of Christmas trees.
And then, finally, there’s the worst type of man, the Christmas-pansy (can I say pansy, anymore?). These are type of “men” who go to Target and buy a shitty, artificial, fake tree that they just reuse every year. No tree smell, no Christmas flavor, just pure disregard for the season.
Getting tree needles all over the house and sap on your sweater is all part of the Christmas spirit! As someone who loves Christmas, I cannot condone the use of an artificial tree for use as the main tree of the home. It’s almost sacrilegious. Now, of course there are exceptions such as people who live alone, or in a small apartment, or elderly folks who can’t really afford to lug in and out a whole ass heavy real tree every year. But if you’re decking a single family home with some reusable plastic than you’re the real scrooge. Man up, get a real tree.
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