♫ On the twelfth day of Christmas
♫ My true love said to me
♫ Nothing because I'm single
♫ And alone
♫ Whine about it
Hey everyone, my name is Matt Bellassai
and this is Whine About It.
A weekly video series where I get drunk at my desk
and complain about stuff.
On this week's episode
The Worst Things About Office Holiday Parties.
Because getting blindingly shitfaced
in front of all of your co-workers
is an art form that should not be left in the hands
of amateurs who cannot handle this responsibility.
So let's drink!
(upbeat music)
Ah, not too bad.
(upbeat music)
Alright, that's enough.
Alright, first of all, getting drunk with your co-workers
is literally the definition of a recipe for disaster.
Whoever decided to mix people who have to work together
in a professional setting every single day
with a raging, gurgling waterfall of alchohol
is a sociopath who wants to expose your life
for the hot ass mess it truly is.
Oh, what could go wrong?
Let's just throw a bunch of people
who repress their true feelings about one another
every day for the last twelve (bleep) months
into a room together and set a bowl
of vodka in the middle of them.
I'm sure no one will die.
Or go down on someone who's married
even though he'd never really talks about his wife
at work, doesn't have any pictures of her in his office.
Also, office holiday party food is (beep) garbage.
Nobody in the history of eating
has ever actively sough out a shrimp cocktail.
Oh, are you hungry?
Here's a bunch of (beep) fish in a cup
with some spicy ketchup, you piece of shit.
Then the next day everyone is aways like,
"Wow, I wonder why Carol threw up
"all those martini olives."
Because you got her drunk and all you fed her
was a single cracker, a toothpick of cheese,
and a cube of sweaty, unidentified meat.
Of course she was (beep) wasted.
All you fed us was (beep) table crumbs.
Next, there's always that one person
who you know is gonna make a (beep) fool
of themselves every year.
Why are we having parties when we know
the same person is guaranteed to get wasted
after two drinks, grope someone next to the punch bowl,
then violently throw up two pigs in a blanket.
Why are we letting this happen every year?
It's always someone named Randy.
Or Hank.
But also during holiday parties, everybody tries to act
like you can't let loose,
when you absolutely can if you want.
Just 'cause Randy decided to hurl up
and entire gingerbread man doesn't mean
I can't get the (beep) down with my funky, jolly self.
Next, why the (bleep) do you have to get dressed up
to go to a (bleep) holiday party.
Everybody already knows you look
like a (beep) mess, you're not fooling anybody
cause you wear a velvet tie and you tuck in your shirt.
You're still a piece of garbage.
Now you're just seasonal garbage.
Then there's always that one guy
who gets a little too handsy
'cause he thinks nobody will care
because it's Christmas and Baby Jesus says, "Go for it."
Well guess what, douche can.
Just because Santa is watching, doesn't mean you can
grind up on something that you can't grind up on
the other 364 days a year, okay?
Why don't you just keep your Yule Log to itself.
Just keep it in its little Yule Log pouch.
Next, there's always those two co-workers
who shouldn't hook up, who hook up.
And everybody has to look at it like,
"Oh, no, they're doing it.
"In front of all of us they're doing it.
"They're doing it and someone should stop them,
"someone should stop this tornado from happening
"but we can't."
All you can do is stand there and watch.
While you deep throat one of those pretzel sticks
that's been dipped in chocolate with the sprinkles on them.
God I love those things.
And finally, holiday parties are the worst
because they always tell you it's an open bar
and then they close it on you.
And then the bartender's always like,
"Sir, I think you have to pay for this bottle
"of champagne you just chugged, sir."
And then I have to be like,
"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't speak English."
And then he has to say, "Oh, sir,
"you do speak English because I'm having
"a conversation with you right here."
And then I have to say, "No.
"My husband, he speak English.
"He pay for me."
And then I point to a stranger and I stumble away
sucking on my candy cane.
That's why holiday parties are (beep) up.
Alright, everybody,
thank you for watching this week.
As always you can find our videos every week
on whineaboutit dot Tumblr dot com
and my page, which is Facebook dot com slash BuzzfeedMatt.
And that's it, that's everything, that's all of it,
thank you for watching, have a (beep) Merry Christmas.
♫ Whine about it
You know how I ended my Christmas parties?
I went to McDonald's and got a McFlurry,
an Oreo McFlurry.
And I ate it in the back of a cab on the way home.
I chowed down on that mother (beep).
And the Uber driver was like, "Are you okay, sir?"
And I was like, "Yes."