Hot damn, Santa, you struck it outta the park- I've been awaiting the mail as the world surrounding it has been nothing but ass, and damn, did it deliver. Pun intended, all the way to the bank.

Being an East Coast boy myself, I'm rarely privy to the goods of the West Coast unless they make it over to Williams-Sonoma - or, into the hands of lucky dogs like myself. From sugar skulls up (they adorn my walls) I knew this would be a special package. And an amazing wrap job to boot!

Tea was included in spades- a beautifully designed selection of Tokers Tea Co. and Song Tea Ceramics, both new companies to me, but with tasting notes that knocked me out- the Shan Lin Xi Winter Sprout mimics cotton candy, kettle corn, and caramelized ginger and undergoes very special and rigorous harvesting. Damn, son. This one will only be broken out for company, or, let's face it, finals week. I look forward to enjoying this in the winter.

Tokers Tea said it better than I could, taking a leaf (U SEE WAT I DID THUR) from Rick James' book, "smells just like motherf*cking tangerines," and I can confirm that this is the case. God, these are so much fun. And as a secret graphic design geek, I'm more than pumped to have these displayed in my tea collection as edible art.

But wait, there's more! I casually mentioned that I liked coffee soap, beer, odd-flavored things; come on, Santa, including beer-scented soap is some next-level expertise! Beer-scented soap, very aromatic and woodsy for a burgeoning mountain man slash smelly broker.

The final gift was perfect with market lows, miserable weather, and the increasing difficulty of getting out of bed in the morning: again, beautiful design and profanity pricks my ears. Fuck it. Yes! Fuck it forever. My Santa, my therapist. Thank you.

Santa, I raise this disgruntled cup to you. This helps an unforgiving world.