I can summarize this by saying that if gratitude was in the shape of a hotdog, my ass would be sore. Even if I could opt for a cash equivalent in lieu of the gift I received from my employer, I'd still come out on the shit-end of the deal. What the hell, guys. Should we expect it to be any different than any of the other 364 days in the year?? We're just being bent over yet another day, so grab your ankles and smile. In the words of Mr.Clark W. Griswold: "...I'd like my boss, *insert your bosses name* right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people, and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head I wanna look him straight in the eye, and I wanna tell him what a cheap, lying, no good rotten 4-flushing low-life snake-licking dirt-eating inbred overstuffed ignorant blood-sucking dog-kissing brainless dickless hopeless fat-assed bug-eyed stiff-legged spider-lipped worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Halleluiah, holy shit! Where's the tylenol??"