Behold the Twelve Days of Douchebags, a sampling of some of the most egregious portions from crap emails we didn't run this year. Think of these dudes (and chicks!) as little undigested corn kernels that we picked out of our mountain of crap and stuffed in your stocking!

Day 1, The Class Act:
"Did you know that I had no intention of proposing to you? I bought the ring from Walmart as a cheap gift to placate you."

Day 2, The Budding Shakespeare (via text):
"how bout a thnx 4 not wanting 2 take advantage of u, out of respect 4 u"

Day 3, The Budding Poe (inspired by "The Raven"):
"I write some verse for you my love
To retaliate your verbal shove
In case you don’t realise what I wrote this poem for
I’ve been working on it for some time
But if not for the convenient rhyme
I would not have sunk so low as call you boldly, whore!"

Day 4, The Giver:
"at least I know have a cool story about the relationship that came to an end when a girl got frusturated at not being eaten out. :P"

Day 5, The Baker:
"My apartment is ready and I know u haven't gotten down with a pure bread African-Canadian brotha before!"

Day 6, The Martyr:
"You have to know that i did not for a moment wanted to avoid you, for a single moment did not want to be the source of pain and if there was a way, a way that will interchange the sorrow and bitterness of your life and infuse it into mine, a way to throw the perfect stone at the machinery we call life i would - with pleasure - lay down on my knees and with a smile upon my face grab my fate, my faith woven of justice, feel the blade of the guillotine. with nothing but a smile."

Day 7, The Stalker:
"We knew each other pretty decently...enough for me to throw rocks at your window and for it to not be stalkerish."

Day 8, The "I'm-Not-A-Stalker" Stalker:
"i walked the long way to the shoe store on monday to avoid passing your block. should you deign to not get back to me at all, can you at least tell me when you move so i don't have to indefinitely reroute my shopping trips for fear of seeming creepy?"

Day 9, The Psychoanalyst:
"That's why you'renot a good lawyer and why I can tell form the get-go you have low self worth and were brought up in a narcissistic family that made you feel you needed to become a lawyer to have a 'title' to feel good about yourself."

Day 10, The Renaissance Man:
"it is true that i enjoy many facets of life, including drunken debauchery, fun passionate intimatacy, playful reparte, mental acuity, physical sports, and integrity."

Day 11, The Addiction Counselor:
"I still think your a beautiful girl and when you lose a few pounds and tone that body up, your gonna be stunning. Just don't give up. Try and get addicted to hitting the gym."

Day 12, The Nostradamus:
"so yeah, i think the friends (and book recommenders?) thing would probably be a better idea ... not that any of us will live very long anyways, given that the rat-brained-robots are about to take over the world"

Trebay asked himself: "Was that Santa ornament really wearing camouflage, with a shotgun held to his torso and a dead mallard slung from his belt?" Of course he was! The ornaments may bring joy and color to the lives of shoppers, but the folks at Bronner's know that the tacky holiday crap they shill is, in fact, totally useless. "There is not a thing out there that anybody needs," Wayne Bronner, the president of Bronner’s, tells Trebay. But:

Not much on the sales floor at Bronner’s costs more than $10, [Bronner] said. "Even in times of economic turmoil, there comes a moment every fall when people look at the calendar and see that Christmas is still coming and it’s still on Dec. 25," added the company president, who that day had chosen from among his collection of novelty neckties one patterned with Christmas bulbs. "The $10 ornament that’s the perfect gift for Grandpa or Uncle Rob is not going to make or break anybody’s budget," he said.

And yet. The cold, hard truth is: You don't need this stuff. Trebay writes about the "150 different styles of nutcrackers; ornaments that said 'Merry Christmas' in 70 languages; display cases filled with ranks of sinister Hummel kiddies; 1,700 Precious Moments cherubs with woeful teardrop eyes; 500 Nativity sets from 70 nations; and Christmas balls in 6,000 styles" and it seems unjustifiably lavish. Christ himself didn't have a Christmas tree, and didn't he live in poverty? At a time of lay-offs, a weak U.S. dollar and general malaise, does spending hard-earned cash on sparkly do-dads make sense? Can a person — on a budget or with cash to burn — justify a glittery Elvis or Bigfoot ornament when the country is in financial crisis?

Excuse Me, Where’s Thanksgiving? [NY Times]

Earlier: 9 Really Weird Christmas Ornaments From Bronner's
9 More Weird Christmas Ornaments From Bronner's