I’VE GOT A LOT OF PROBLEMS WITH YOU PEOPLE, AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO HEAR ABOUT IT. YOU, KRUGER, MY SON TELLS ME YOUR COMPANY STINKS! – Frank Costanza.

Merry (early) Festivus to all of the dear readers of The Coggin Toboggan. 2017 is mercifully coming to a close in less than a few weeks, but what ho! There is still plenty of time for more gripes and complaints in 2017 with your good friends at The Coggin Toboggan.

And what better way to have our voices heard about everything that disappointed us in the past year than by participating in the annual Airing of Grievances, an important part of the Festivus tradition?

But what’s that, you say? You don’t know about Festivus? Why, it’s a made up holiday from a decades old episode of Seinfeld that lazy blogs and sports talk radio stations use to squeeze out a topic of conversation at the end of each year.

Frank Costanza: At the Festivus dinner, you gather your family around, and tell them all the ways they have disappointed you over the past year!

But we are a lazy, lazy blog. We aired our own grievances in 2015 and in 2016, but this year we don’t have the energy. So we turned to our readers, our glorious, loyal, honest readers for their grievances about anything.

Boy, did you guys put a damper on everything as usual. ::sighs deeply:: I guess we can look at them together, but first let me say how truly disappointed I am in all of you.

 

 

 

::Looks back on this column alone and sees I’ve used “we” about 5,000 times so far, even though it’s painfully obvious this is a one-man operation:: God damnit. I’m one of the biggest perpetrators of this as I use “we” in the royal sense for everything. Columns, tweets, menage a trois requests of complete strangers…it makes me feel like a big man, you know? Maybe, also, I think it hides the fact that I alone am the complete and only reason for the abject failure of this blog to amount to anything other than a haphazard mountain of dick and death jokes.

It doesn’t? Well ok, terrific, we need to do a better job next year.

 

https://twitter.com/jwsamuel/status/943320187671105537

A common lament, Jim. These Monday morning quarterbacks really think they know it all, don’t they? But they do not, am I right gang?!

Actually, Jim shared something with me apropos of nothing that is FAR more interesting than the grievance he sent along. Take a look…

 

 

https://twitter.com/jwsamuel/status/943333772610727937

https://twitter.com/jwsamuel/status/943334904795926528

https://twitter.com/jwsamuel/status/943335470804754433

What are the odds that I find this crazy person living in my basement within the next 6 months?  5:1? 4:1? Jim, just remember, I’m your friend and this is all in good fun, I swear.

I agree! Comcast and Comcast alone is the reason for this city’s continuous terrible luck with injuries. Since they REFUSE to put a William Penn statue on top of the new Comcast Building, I propose we take it one further step to counteract the bad luck that has settled over this city like an afghan of an old woman taking her last breath on a cold Christmas morning, yet again ignored by her friends and family.

Are you thinking what I’m thinking? That’s right, go get a shovel because we he have a corpse to dig up!

The only logical course of action is to exhume his body, place his bones in an Eagles starter jacket, and hang it from the flagpole at the top of the Comcast Building for the rest of eternity.

DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP! DIG HIM UP!

::Fails to get a DIG HIM UP! chant started::

Pshhhhttt…..whatever.

https://twitter.com/rfmchenry1371/status/942826032872280064

Well maybe if your fantasy defense hadn’t been playing fantasy prevent it wouldn’t have prevented you from fantasy winning? Only a poor craftsmen blames his tools, so take that to heart.

We all can’t be favored by 23 in our fantasy championships, so it’s okay. Maybe next year. ::dooms self to lose in heartbreaking fashion on Christmas day::

https://twitter.com/USELESS_SEQUELS/status/942803918580584450

I think you can blame that on grandaddy CTE finally taking its toll on the play in the NFL.

I disagree on the second part of your grievance, though. I saw the new Star Wars movie and thought it was GREAT. Can you believe Leia has actually been Chewie’s sister this entire time? When they revealed that and Kylo Ren popped out of R2-D2 and garrotted Luke Skywalker to death with bantha intestines…holy shit, who saw that coming?

And when in the final five minutes they cut to a sleeping Darth Vader waking up in a cold sweat on the ORIGINAL death star, remarking about his strange dreams, leading the viewer to wonder if the entire SERIES had just been a dream this entire time? WOW. It blew my mind.

Long story short, I did not see the new Star Wars so I don’t know.

Jesus Christ, what is it with you people and Jody Hull? I can’t go on a day on this blog without someone asking for more Jody Hull. WHAT WOULD JODY HULL DO ABOUT THAT? WHAT WOULD JODY HULL THINK ABOUT THAT? WHAT IS JODY HULL DOING NOWADAYS? IS HE DEAD? REMEMBER THAT TIME JODY HULL SCORED 10 GOALS DURING THE 1999-2000 SEASON?

God damnit. ENOUGH WITH JODY HULL.

Here…here you leaches.

Is that enough to satiate your LUST for Jody Hull. That’s the last his name will ever be uttered on this blog UNTIL THE DAY I DIE I SWEAR TO THEE.

A late entry, but we’ll allow it. Rob Riches gets it. You catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar. Rob, I notice from your twitter handle that you’re an associate site manager with the NHL. Can you hook that guy up above you with the Jody Hull fetish with some Jody Hull swag? Please and thank you.

How dare you turn my love of Jay Sherman and “The Critic” back against me.

THAT’S IT, FESTIVUS IS OVER. THE AIRING OF GRIEVANCES WAS A COMPLETE FAILURE AND I BLAME YOU, THE DEAR READER.

You’ll be lucky if I summon the strength to keep this stupid blog going in 2018. Go read my stuff on Crossing Broad, at least I get paid for that.

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(I love you all. see you in 2018)