The collective brain trust of Reggie Noble and Robb Stark are here to dissect the bullsh*t and/or unequivocal dopeness that is many a holiday. If you disagree with our findings, play nicely in the comments section:
New Year's Eve/Day
Robb Stark: If you enjoy celebrating an arbitrary moment for the price of your wallet imploding, this is the holiday for you!
That said, the “New Year’s Kiss” is one of the more tremendous holiday rituals out there. Not only is it an innocuous, built-in way to advance the night’s mission–it is also creates situations where desperation yields shocking amounts of short-term success. This is because when faced with the prospect of no New Years Kiss or a fat guy with a terrible mustache, a female may choose the latter solely out of fear of being a social outcast. A potent and dangerous fear, but one that unequivocally preys on the “desperate times, desperate measures” credo.
Reggie Noble: Look, this is an incredible holiday. New beginnings, casual hookups, immense quantities of booze. All good things. The devil, however, is in the details. There is nothing more important to a girl than to have solid New Year’s plans. It’s not good enough to have good plans. It’s absolutely essential to them to have the VERY BEST POSSIBLE plans in the world. Oh, and paying an up-front fee to gain entrance to a shitty bar? Not worth it on any night of the year. At least there’s copious amounts of football.
Robb Stark: Admittedly, I’ve carefully danced around this portion in the calendar and have only actually celebrated one of these whilst in a relationship. This is one of the better accomplishments in my 22 year existence.
Truth: It’s nice to celebrate true love. But if true love needs to inject a catalyst to be celebrated, said love would fail a drug test. Hall of Fame voters hate that shit, and your life is a lie.
Reggie Noble: This isn’t a holiday. This is a day where you have to work extra hard to get laid. What kind of shit is that? If it weren’t for a crippling addiction to candy hearts, I wouldn’t recognize this one at all. Sugar’s a cruel mistress, my friends.
Robb Stark: American Presidents are dope, as is the corresponding weekend ski trip that has nothing to do with Presidents. Or half the time, skiing.
Reggie Noble: Holy balls, there are a lot of bullshit holidays out there. I’ll tell you one thing: We don’t get this day off work or school if old Abraham Lincoln catches the second act of “Our American Cousin.” Thanks for that, John Wilkes Booth. Seriously, what do you do to commemorate this day besides capitalizing on an out-of-this-world deal at a carpet wholesaler?
St. Patrick’s Day
Robb Stark: The fact that there is a holiday that can flawlessly combine getting sh*tfacedwith an excuse to play that awesome song from the Wake scenes in “The Wire” is truly majestic.
My only qualm is that for 24 hours, all humans with Irish ancestry decide to aspire to the (barely justified) arrogant shittiness usually only exhibited by Philadelphia Eagles fans.
Reggie Noble: Amazing holiday if you can escape without any black eyes or permanent liver damage. And believe me, it’s a big if. St. Patrick’s Day falls on the cusp of spring and usually on an NCAA Tournament gameday. It’s like the perfect storm for Reggie Noble happiness. Who all see the leprechaun say HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYY!!
Robb Stark: As you may have deduced from the fact that I write words and talk about things that I think applies to the entire world but really only applies to a small, small portion of society, I am Jewish. My mom converted though, meaning that entire side of the family crushes the Catholicism.
(Most Easter Sundays, I go to an unnecessarily nice lunch and watch the Knicks predictably lose a first round playoff game. Also, this is always on a Sunday. What a waste.)
Reggie Noble: Um, you get to sin as much as you want and all of that ugliness is absolved? Then you’re rewarded with jelly beans and Cadbury eggs for killing Jesus? Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.
Robb Stark: The unofficial start of Summer. What all those March/April female elliptical-goers have been working towards. The time to break in the grill. The time where the year’s first severe thunderstorm effectively ruins any and all plans. The time where you have to go to that stupid picnic. The time where you play your first round of golf for the year, then remember it’s your first round of golf for the year.
The expectations here are often too high to meet. Not cool.
Reggie Noble: A holiday that’s always on a Monday? That’s downright brilliant. BONUS WEEKEND. If you don’t stuff your face, insist it’s beach weather and then drunkenly claim you want to join the military, you’re doing this one wrong.
Robb Stark: Similar to Memorial Day, except more ‘Merica, more pool, more beachside ragers, a hot dog eating contest, and the sorts of summer parties that universally celebrate the shit in that Meatloaf song that’s a bit too long, but no one gives a shit because see above.
Reggie Noble: I love blowing shit up and grilling. I’m a man, after all. But fireworks SUCK. My rating is contingent on a firework-less experience.
Robb Stark: I consider Labor Day kind of like myself. When compared to my older Brother (Memorial Day), I am essentially the same thing, but intentionally go out of my way to be slightly shittier. Some people will respect me for my craft and therefore be huge fans, but for society at large, it’s a no brainer which one is more admirable
Reggie Noble: Another Monday where you don’t have to wake up and resist suicide. Now that’s what I call living. Once you’re up, though, not much different than any other day — outside of the “Law & Order” marathons.
Robb Stark: Meh. Girls are technically sluttlier, but mostly in heavily fortified pacts. Not to make a “Mean Girls” reference (feel free to shoot me after this one, honestly I’d respect you if you did–throwing away your life to maintain the integrity of avoiding “Mean Girls” references on BroBible would be an insanely noble cause), but Lindsay Lohan crushed that outfit, and was rewarded by a she-really-should’ve-been-much-hotter-in-this-role Rachel McAdams making out with that dude who may or may not have had an IQ.
That said, any excuse for a craftily-themed party (complete with a pumpkin keg) definitely should be considered a respectable holiday.
Reggie Noble: Recently, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend where people get mad everything tastes like pumpkin. Well, that’s Halloween, bitch. I won’t have anyone besmirching a holiday where cleavage is the national dress code. I won’t!
- Seeing all your friends from High School, therefore putting in the necessary effort that’ll get you off the hook from ever having to see certain people again
- The launch of the awesome four-year long “when we’re home and not dating anyone, awww yeah” agreement
- All the food
- All of the food again
- Leaving, and successfully avoiding round three of all the food
- Annual ‘Cowboys vs. Indians’ Thanksgiving Football game, in which I am the reigning MVP and holder of the “Squanto’s Jug” trophy, valuable hardware that was once a jar of protein powder
Reggie Noble: Gluttony? Check. Sloth? Check. Lust? Probably.
This one encompasses every one of the seven deadly sins. Hedonism at its finest.
Plus, it’s the one day a year someone wants to talk about my beloved Detroit Lions with me.
Robb Stark: I’ve been sitting here for nearly an hour, trying to think of a crafty way of saying “If you don’t like Christmas, you are a horrible, horrible person.” But there is no crafty way of saying it, because Christmas and the intoxicating Christmas spirit, regardless of religion, embodies one of the rare moments in time where life is truly the best. Also the basis for arguably the greatest movie ever made
Reggie Noble: If you don’t like Christmas, you’re a horrible person.