Adam Hornyak’s Christmas – uncensored!

Today I’m talking to a great friend and supporter of all the authors – it’s the infamous – Adam Hornyak from Front Row Monthly – a truly amazing website and magazine!

I asked Adam to share his ‘Christmas’ story – stand back for a fun AND UNCENSORED post by ‘train-wreck’ Adam – take it away….

Christmas is far and away my favorite holiday.  My family loves to cook gigantic dinners, get dressed to the nines, and dance the night away with my three little nieces.  Spending time with the people that I love means more to me than anything, and the traditions that we are slowly instilling in the next generation brings a warmth to my heart.  Ok.  Sorry.  I just lied to make myself feel a little better about my life, but you should know the truth.  You would think that Christmas is a time when my family can put our differences aside and be cordial to each other for a couple of days.  Unfortunately, I belong to a family that has determined that the holiday season is the best time to make life as stressful as possible on everyone around them.  Screaming matches regularly circulate the breakfast table and run full force until the drunken midnight hour.  I have a tendency to try my best to leave the premises on every occasion.  “Oh, you need butter mom?  I’ll run out and get some.”  One stick of butter can take me 3 hours as I bar hop my way to and from the grocery store.  The only redeeming factor in this whole mess are gifts.

Holiday tradition pretty much ends at the threshold, as I am not one to accept the old adage that “tis better to give than receive”.  To me, the entire concept is a crock.  I was recently asked by one of Santa’s elves to lay out my prior gift wishes when I was the age of 5, 10, 15, 20, 25, and 30, and of course, I’m up for a good challenge.  Alas, the Christmas clusterfuck that is Adam:

Age 5 – My first disappointment

I had to consult my parents on this one to get an idea of where my head was when I was 5, and my mother reminded me of what I knew for sure would be the greatest day of my short life.  My mom took my brother and I to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap.  Looking back on it, Santa smelled a little like tequila, but that didn’t matter.  I had been good all year long, and I knew that the man in red would take care of an adorable kid such as myself.  The ONLY request that I made was for a Cabbage Patch Kid doll which was the rage at the time.  I woke up early Christmas morning and fired myself to the tree only to see that Santa dicked me over.  Looking back on it now, I understand why I never received one, but at the time, I didn’t realize that playing with one was a little on the fruity side of the sexual fence, and my dad was having nothing in his home that would potentially scar him for life.  Pissed at the fat, bearded man, I immediately began planning what I would ask for on my sixth Christmas, and cirrhosis of Santa’s liver topped the list.

Age 10 – Liar, liar, pants on fire

At some point between ages of 5 and 10, I learned the demoralizing truth about who Santa really was.  Why do we do this to our children?  Every holiday season, millions and millions of kids around the world are traumatized over the fact that they have been systematically lied to by a complex web of complicit authority figures.  For me, it culminated into a premature cynicism already closely teetering thanks to being born into the most sarcastic bloodline in history.  10 sucked.  All I was hoping to get were Transformers, and felt deserving of any request following the calculated sting of familial deception.  I wanted…no, DESERVED every Transformer that was made, and instead received Gobots.  Do you remember Gobots?  I sure as hell do because it was the bane of my existence that winter.  Every kid in my neighborhood was showing off their new, name-brand Transformers while all I could do was navigate through some verbal obstacle course to convince them that Optimus Prime’s retarded cousin was preferential to toys from the biggest cartoon on television.

15 – A dumbass has surfaced

I’m older, more mature, and doing everything I could to get noticed by girls.  What would any guy looking to make a woman’s head turn want?  That’s right, a Nintendo game console.  Nothing makes a woman hotter than watching her man complete the third level of Super Mario Brothers.  I very well could have been the most oblivious teenager in all of teenage-hood.  Sure, I was entering the ground floor of the John Madden video game revolution, but would have to spend what felt like another 15 years to get laid for the first time.  I have to give it up to my parents though.  The first time I actually received what I asked for turned me into a bigger loser than I already was.

20 – Love is in the air

On my 20th Christmas, I went down upon one knee and proposed to my girlfriend.  Knowing me as well as she did, and not believing that I was serious, I spent a good half-hour convincing her that it wasn’t a joke.  “Once I tell my mother, you’re going to have to go through with it.” she warned.  We celebrated the evening in style with a little bottle of shitty champagne, curling up with a movie, and making love all night long.

25 – Free at last

On my 25th Christmas, I filed divorce papers.  Sick of her constant bitching and moaning that the dishes weren’t done, I drank too much, and spent a little too much time looking at internet porn, I figured that it was time to find another succubus to destroy my life.  Luckily, we had no kids, so the process was nice and easy.  By mid-January we were done, and I haven’t spoken to the soul-sucking asshole since.  Finally, Santa was looking upon my best interests and made it happen.  The best thing about the timing was the emotional middle finger I was able to give her by not having to get her a Christmas present that she would have inevitably been forced to return so she could afford an attorney.

30 – When reality sets in

After the divorce, the next five years were spent whoring around and attempting to date every woman in the state of Maryland.  I know I didn’t reach the goal, but I came pretty damn close.  At 30, I was in the midst of a successful career.  I really didn’t need anything, and if I did, I would just buy it for myself.  I told people that I had exchanged gifts with year in and year out that I really didn’t want to play this game of two people spending $50 on each other, only to be forced to pretend they like the chip and dip or whatever piece of shit, re-gift they were throwing my way.  “Ooo.  A cheese of the month club?  How thoughtful considering I’m lactose intolerant.”  Some took the news as an offense; thinking they had wronged me throughout the year (most did by the way).  Others were pleased that I made the first move, thus making me wonder if the ungrateful dicks weren’t happy with my prior gift selections.  In either case, the only gifts I would exchange at this point in my life were with my parents, and as we all grew older together, they became more and more thoughtful.  At 30, I didn’t ask for them, but was pleased to see gift certificates to Planned Parenthood under the tree.  My folks were all too familiar with my carousing, and wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be bringing a baby named Mistake around the following year.  I like to think that it is because they don’t want to lie to their grandchild about an imaginary gift giver, but I’m suspicious that they really want the Hornyak name to end as gracefully as it possibly can at this point.

Merry Christmas everyone, and if you are thinking of getting me a gift…don’t.

Adam can be reached for inspirational speeches or eulogies at:

Oh Adam! Being rescued from getting a Cabbage Patch Doll did you a favour, but Gobots – really??? That explains a lot … it all stems back to that one unfortunate Christmas. I’ll raise my shot glass of Tequila to you – oops, make that Southern Comfort – I wouldn’t want to remind you of being 5 years old again! Thanks for joining us and sharing your Christmas story … and hang in there – 27 days and it will all be over for another year.

Here are some examples of Adam’s work and find out more about Front Row Monthly – it’s amazing!
Adam Hornyak – I’m Not a Proud Man
Adam Hornyak – Mommy Dearest
Follow them on Twitter: @FrontRowMonthly
Follow Adam on Twitter: @AdamHornyak


Find out more about Editor and author Linn B Halton:

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Twitter: @LinnBHalton
Facebook: Linn B Halton
Romantic Novelists’ Association page (buy) (buy)


Please leave a comment

  1. Chris Longmuir Says:

    I loved this story, and a very merry Xmas to you too, Adam. I hope Santa finds something suitable this year.

  2. Adam Hornyak Says:

    Thanks Chris. Happy holidays!

  3. Brian T Shirley Says:

    Well Sir Adam, nothing like spreading the X-Mas cheer! Just kidding, great piece and I hope you get what you want for Christmas, which sounds like not too much.

  4. Melanie Says:

    I loved your story, Adam! Wishing you a very merry Christmas… You never know, this could be the year that Santa finally gets it right for you.

  5. richard holmes Says:

    Well Adam look on the bright side. Your fat Santa may have stunk of Tequila, but at least he wasn’t a paedo….

  6. Emma Calin Says:

    Great article Adam – hope you manage to avoid the cheese this year.

  7. Ali B Says:

    Adam – that’s one amazing post – and lets face it, Christmas can be a time of real unhappiness and disapppontment. Sometime that needs saying. (I’m now trying to remember if our son got Optimus Prime or the Gobot. If it was the latter, I know that i’m the one responssible for what he now calls his ‘delinquent period!)


  8. Kit Domino Says:

    You’ve done it again, Adam, you’ve made my day and the grin on my face is wide. You have totally summed up my Christmases past. Rest easy in the thought that many feel the same as you, especially my other half who hates the whole business. What amazes me is the movie channel called True Movies that at the moment is running non-stop Father Christmas movies! Yours, disillusioned from Tunbridge …

    Great stuff. Do come back soon and talk to us some more.

    🙂 Kit

  9. Nicky Wells Says:

    *waves* from one kindred spirit to the other. I love the run-up to Christmas, and the lights and the cookies and all that. Christmas itself with its crazy emphasis on exchanging of highly materialistic gifts…. ugh. I feel totally trapped. Not aided by the fact that my Dad had an unnerving and unfailing habit of bringing out the very worst in everyone over Christmas… cue what you describe, or our variation thereof. But hey ho, I am DETERMINED to make it happy and different for my children. Where’s there’s light, there’s hope… Merry Christmas!

  10. Stephanie Keyes Says:

    Wow, Adam, you’ve done it again. Don’t worry, I won’t be buying you a present-I feel the same way. Only I get bath soaps, which I am allergic to. 🙂

  11. Sheryl Browne Says:

    I bet you didn’t have to wait until you were 30 to get a bike. I never had one as a child, picture snotty nose pressed against window as I watch other kids ride by … and this was when I was 29! Wah. Sending you Optimus Prime, Adam. Better late than never!

  12. Jackie Buxton Says:

    Ha ha! I can’t really relate to much of this but it did make me laugh. Love the, ‘when I tell my mum we’ll have to go through with it,’ line – if there was ever a sign. At least you got to make love all night so it wasn’t all bad 😉
    Try to enjoy it if you possibly can. I promise not to buy you a present, ok?!

  13. Brian T Shirley Says:

    You’re such a jolly person Adam

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