Are you getting coal in your stocking this Christmas?

Since the simple days of Socrates, the lines between right and wrong have become increasingly blurred. What’s manipulative and what’s resourceful? How dark can a white lie be?

Be prepared for the likelihood that you’ve been deemed “naughty” due to unsavory behavior this year. Here’s a quick, easy evaluation to determine your ranking:

  • You consistently feel one of these emotions, even if you can’t pinpoint the cause:




  • You don’t remember most of this year besides the blowout sale on bourbon at Total Wine, and that was in February.
  • You didn’t know who David Bowie was until you heard he died.
  • You’re getting everyone snowflake-patterned shot glasses this year because Marshall’s was selling a 12-pack for just $4!
  • You lied about your income to get free Plan B at Planned Parenthood. Then you sold it at retail price to a 15-year-old.
  • You posted more than 30 selfies to a single social media channel (not including Snapchat, obviously)
  • You live in rural Florida.
  • You showed up at Emma’s 26th birthday party with a case of Coors Light.

If any of these pertain to you, or bring to mind similar transgressions, you have a 90% chance of receiving a stocking full of coal.

Of course, several unknowable factors persist:

  • Is this character judgement cumulative or just based on this year?
  • Is owning 2 vibrators considered adultery?
  • What if I don’t have a chimney?

So you’re a cold-hearted snake and it’s too late to rectify the damage you’ve wrought–but aren’t the holidays about joy, and doesn’t joy come from being yourself? Isn’t rewarding kindness with material goods a bit contradictory? How come The North Pole owns both Exxon Mobil and the National Iranian Oil Company and they still pass out coal?

Society has it all wrong, not you. Go ahead, be a reckless bitch all year round. You have nothing to lose.


Quiz: Which autumnal squash are you?

Pick a color:

Sky blue

Royal purple

Depression black

Pick a number:




Pick a seed:




Close your eyes and point to at the screen. Wherever your finger lands, that is your spirit squash.

Butternut–You’re just the absolute cutest. You’re the type of person who gets 200 likes on a photo of you wearing a fun hat. On the surface you appear a bit naive, but you’re in fact quite polished and sophisticated when you need to be. Wherever you are, you make people around you feel warm and comforted, even though you couldn’t protect them from harm even a little bit.

Spaghetti–You’re a free spirit. You don’t conform to labels because you can’t be defined by just one proper noun. According to your philosophy, you can be whatever you want to be as long as it’s on Pinterest. You don’t believe in “bad”, it’s all just “different”. People are hesitant the first time they hang out with you, but once you win them over they can’t stop telling everyone how they feel “better than ever” since your friendship began.

Zucchini–You’re a no-nonsense straight-shooter. You’d love it if all of life could be converted to an Excel document. You know that you’re better at being a squash than any of the others because you’re both approachable and versatile. You don’t take anyone’s shit because you just don’t have time for it–you’re too busy alphabetizing a long list of your positive character traits while watching TED talks.

Delicata–You’re a trophy wife. Beneath the fluorescent lights of the Trader Joe’s produce section, you’re an eye-catching mystery. You’re a master at flirtatious comments, sexy hair flips, and sounding like you know what you’re talking about. However, after your enticing seduction tactics, no one can actually hold a conversation with you. You’re never a real part of dinner party discussions, you’re just there to make your husband look adventurous and studly. You know this and don’t care, because after years of digging you’ve finally struck gold.

Pumpkin–You’re a total pushover and a shameless sellout. You let children viciously carve faces on you because you want that front porch fame. You don’t do well on your own the way your squash peers do–people can only tolerate you with spices, condensed milk and that buttery, flaky crust. No one knows who you truly are yet somehow everyone still loves you–so keep up the act.