Ungrateful Christmas Tweets

Well, Christmas is over and that means it's time to scour Twitter to see how many people are out there that I want to have eradicated from the planet. I'm not a huge fan of Twitter to begin with. I think it has something to do with the fact that when you can only have 140 characters and everything that people write consists of too many abbreviations and misspellings. Seriously, I could do without ever again seeing a word that ends with a 'Z' instead of the 'S'. (It's NOT cool! It makes you look like an illiterate dimwit.) Anyway, here is a compilation of some of the post-Christmas tweets from the most ungrateful members of our species. Seriously, it is stuff like this that makes me build the wall around my walled off compound even higher. (I know that it's too small to read, but if you click on this link and then click on the image that the link takes you to, you'll be able to see all of this asininity in its full fledged glory. Try not to stab yourself when you're done reading. Oh, and congratulations if you actually make it to the end of the tweets. I almost didn't.)

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Merry Christmas 2011!

I'm sure I could come up with something ludicrous to put here today. But I think I'll pass. It's Christmas. It just wouldn't seem....right. You know, kinda like one of those inflatable, lit up, manger scenes in someone's front yard? You know that the people mean well, but it just doesn't translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great.


I don't know if this is going to translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great either. So to make sure that nothing gets lost in translation, I'm keepin' it short. (But just in case it does get lost in translation, I really am shootin' for the whole "feeling of Christmas" thing here. Just so you know.)

I'm grateful for this day because it's kinda where it all started or where it all starts. Without the historical events which took place on this day, I wouldn't have a chance to be forgiven for all of the times and all of the things that I screw up. And there's a lot of 'em. Trust me. And it's not just me that has that opportunity. It's everyone. Including all of the morons that I mock incessantly. They too can (surprisingly) be forgiven for all of their evil-doings and their oh-so moronic ways.

The whole Christmas thing just makes me happy. And I try to share that happiness with others when given the opportunity. (And in forms other than this blog. Hey. Why are you laughing?) And this year I had an excellent opportunity to spread my own little version of happiness and I totally took fully advantage of said opportunity (seemingly to the delight of others, which was the point). I also try to enjoy those around me and those in my life and give them just one day where their obvious shortcomings don't annoy me. That's my way of spreadin' the joy. That alone makes others grateful as well. Give it a try is all I'm sayin'.

And you know, I really do have more heartfelt feelings about people in my life than I either care to admit or am capable of expressing without either scaring the other person or becoming inadvertently engaged to four different individuals when I'm done. And at the risk of doing either or both of those things, I'd like to let those of you that I know personally know that I think you're all just great. Some a little greater than others, which means there are a few of you who really need to start pulling your weight a bit more, but I still love ya. Usually. And for those of you whom I don't know personally but who read this blog (and don't leave jackass comments), well, I think you guys are just swell also and I appreciate all of the reading. I know it's not always easy and that's why I really appreciate the effort.

So Merry Christmas. Now go spread some cheer. Or some love. Or both. You've got the whole rest of the year for complaing and mocking all of the other crap. Today? Love, cheer, and thanks. Spread a little of that around, will ya? It's Christmas, for cryin' out loud!

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Politically Correct Christmas Carols

You know that the war on Christmas is going to get to the point where nothing is allowed. Nothing as we know it, that is. I imagine that we'll still be able to have some things, but not the really nice things. We'll end up being regulated to things like the "Politically Correct Christmas Carols" which I have included below. Behold!

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A Very Calvin Christmas

The house below is in Rocklin, CA. It is, quite possibly, one of the greatest example of how to decorate your yard for Christmas in a delightful manner. What's not to love? Some of those clear, dangly lights in the background. A few unobtrusive accentuating spotlights. And Calvin and Hobbes (complete with Calvin's famous striking snowmen). It's Christmas at its best. (Seriously, if you don't smile at this, you're dead inside.)

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Anti-Elfs on Shelfs

Are you familiar with Elf on the Shelf? Apparently it's huge. Not the elf itself, the concept. You can click on the link above if you want to know more, but essentially, it works like this: You buy this book that comes with this elf doll. Then you read the book to your kids and put the elf on, you guessed it, a shelf. But the fun doesn't stop there! No, every night when your kids are asleep, you're supposed to move the elf somewhere else. Then your kids get to get up in the morning and see that the elf has moved and just be all excited with glee and joy or something like that. I guess it sounds kind of cute. Sort of charming, perhaps. There's something that really appeals to kids about leaving something in one place when they go to bed and then finding it "magically" moved or gone when they wake up. I remember thinking it was the coolest thing when I'd get up on Christmas morning to find that the cookies that I left out for Santa were gone. I don't know why I dug that so much, but I really did. (I'm not much different now. It doesn't take much to entertain me. Ooh! Shiny!)

Even if I had kids, I don't know if I could pull off Elf on the Shelf. Sure, it seems easy enough, but I have the feeling that I'd suck at it. In fact, I know how I can sum up how it would probably turn out for me. I can link you to a blog called People I Want to Punch in the Throat. The chick that writes over there is funny. (NOT funnier than me, however. Don't get any ideas about defecting. I'm the funny one and you read this! Just wanted to make that clear.) Give her a read. Get the full story on the Elf on the Shelf. Let me know what you think. I'm still not getting an elf, though.

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Troll Parents Strike Again

You know why I don't have children? Well, there are several reasons. Most of which are better than the one I'm about to mention right now. I would just like trolling the little guys too much. I'd be like Calvin's dad from Calvin and Hobbes. It wouldn't be good. I'd have very misinformed and confused children. I think that Jimmy Kimmel must be the same way. Check out the video below of what happened when he asked people who had kids to let them open one Christmas present a couple of weeks early. The catch is that the "present" wasn't exactly anything that the kids would have wanted, nor was it really anything that would be normally be called a "present". The kids were pretty good sports, though. That poor little boy that got the activity book for a girl! He was not impressed. Click here if the video doesn't play.

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The Missing Tuesday Post!

It has been brought to my attention that I somehow missed posting this when Tuesday actually rolled around. My bad. Granted, what I was doing instead of posting was likely much more enjoyable (and required much less clothing), but that doesn't change the fact that this blog is an every day thing. EVERY DAY! So here is my missing Tuesday post.

I so want to do my Christmas cards this year like the family below did theirs. It's genius I tell you. Pure genius. Oh, and the hilarity factor is through the roof, so what's not to love? Behold!

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Going Completely Bonkers On Christmas

How was your Christmas? Good? Did you get that one gift that you were really hoping for? The one that you didn't know what you'd do if you didn't get it, but that you thought was so elusive that you'd never actually hold it in your very own two hands? Then when you did finally get it, did you completely flip out as if you had just won the lottery? We're talking going completely berserk. Well, the kids in the video below did go completely berserk. It's amazing how a simple item like a Wii or (back in the day) a Nintendo 64, could cause the vocal range of children to reach supersonic levels that only dogs can hear. I guess it's nice to see kids that excited about something that they've received. It kind of makes you think that they appreciate it and are grateful to have received it. Thus, their odd way of celebrating becomes amusing. (Though the kid who ran all the way down the hallway just to run all the way back and simply jump in the air was disappointing. I was expecting him to slide down that floor in his socks or do some cool dance or something. Nope. He just jumped. Once.)

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Merry Christmas 2010!

I'm sure I could come up with something ludicrous to put here today. But I think I'll pass. It's Christmas. It just wouldn't seem....right. You know, kinda like one of those inflatable, lit up, manger scenes in someone's front yard? You know that the people mean well, but it just doesn't translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great.


I don't know if this is going to translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great either. So to make sure that nothing gets lost in translation, I'm keepin' it short. (But just in case it does get lost in translation, I really am shootin' for the whole "feeling of Christmas" thing here. Just so you know.)

I'm grateful for this day because it's kinda where it all started or where it all starts. Without the historical events which took place on this day, I wouldn't have a chance to be forgiven for all of the times and all of the things that I screw up. And there's a lot of 'em. Trust me. And it's not just me that has that opportunity. It's everyone. Including all of the morons that I mock incessantly. They too can (surprisingly) be forgiven for all of their evil-doings and their oh-so moronic ways.

The whole Christmas thing just makes me happy. And I try to share that happiness with others when given the opportunity. (And in forms other than this blog. Hey. Why are you laughing?) And this year I had an excellent opportunity to spread my own little version of happiness and I totally took fully advantage of said opportunity (seemingly to the delight of others, which was the point). I also try to enjoy those around me and those in my life and give them just one day where their obvious shortcomings don't annoy me. That's my way of spreadin' the joy. That alone makes others grateful as well. Give it a try is all I'm sayin'.

And you know, I really do have more heartfelt feelings about people in my life than I either care to admit or am capable of expressing without either scaring the other person or becoming inadvertently engaged to four different individuals when I'm done. And at the risk of doing either or both of those things, I'd like to let those of you that I know personally know that I think you're all just great. Some a little greater than others, which means there are a few of you who really need to start pulling your weight a bit more, but I still love ya. Usually. And for those of you whom I don't know personally but who read this blog (and don't leave jackass comments), well, I think you guys are just swell also and I appreciate all of the reading. I know it's not always easy and that's why I really appreciate the effort.

So Merry Christmas. Now go spread some cheer. Or some love. Or both. You've got the whole rest of the year for complaing and mocking all of the other crap. Today? Love, cheer, and thanks. Spread a little of that around, will ya? It's Christmas, for cryin' out loud!

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Merry Guitar Hero Christmas To All!

Side note: I've been swamped all day. Baking crap holiday goods to give to people for Christmas takes a lot more time than just ambling about in the mall. It is more delicious than stuff you can get at the mall (with the exception of, perhaps, Cinnabon), but it's definitely time consuming. Therefore, I'm revisiting an awesome post from last year. It still find it awesome because I still love Guitar Hero. And I'm only a day away from new games to play.

Fine. I'll admit it. I love Guitar Hero. It's the funnest damn video game I think I've ever played. Better than the entire Tony Hawk series (which was the reason that I ever got a PS2 in the first place). Probably better than any of the games that I played in the arcades as a young hooligan. Definitely better than Pong. I love it. Granted, I am constantly mocked by my non-playing friends (Translation: all of them), but they still love me, so I'm good with the mocking.

That being said, if I knew where the folks responsible for the video below lived, I would move in across the street from them. That's right. I would leave the self-imposed isolation (to protect me from the morons of society) of my walled-off compound and be someone's neighbor for the holiday season. That's how cool I think this is. I realize that the majority of you won't think that it is as cool as I do. That sounds like a personal problem. Perhaps witnessing how video games and the Christmas season can come together as one and spread tidings of joy throughout the land will change your mind over the coolness.

I give to you (courtesy of those guys who posted it on YouTube) a Christmas Light Hero. Behold!

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There's Nothing Wrong With Books

I should explain something about the clip I've included below. See, I'm trying really hard not to hate the kid in the video. And I'm guessing that your first inclination will be to hate the kid in the video. After all, that was my first inclination, so I can't imagine why yours would be any different. But the kid is only three. Three years old. And really, I completely blame the parents for how this kid has turned out so far. I know, I know. It seems judgmental. It probably is in its own way. But there's really nothing wrong with a little judgment in certain situations. This is one of those situations.

What we have is a small child unwrapping gifts last Christmas while the proud parents who are responsible for raising this child to get to this point are watching and videoing their precious little snowflake. The child was, well, surprised at one gift that he opened. He apparently had some preconceived notions about what Christmas is/was all about (and those notions don't include books). Those notions being that it's all about him and what he gets and he had better like it otherwise, you're going to hear about it. And the parents are going to just laugh and laugh and laugh as to make sure that this sort of behavior is encouraged in the future. Let's take a look, shall we?

See what I mean? I really want to dislike the kid, but I have a hard time because he's only three, for cryin' out loud. I have absolutely no problem what so ever disliking the parents, however. Laugh it up a little bit more there, Mom. Make sure your kid knows how cute you find it for him to be ungrateful. And you too, Dad. Make sure your kid sees you laughing over there so that he can throw a fit every time he doesn't like something.

Look, I realize that the kid is three. But I also realize that he shouldn't be turning up his nose at a gift. If he is old enough to understand that he is going to get presents on Christmas, then he is old enough to have the concept of gratitude instilled within him. He is at least old enough for a little talk about how much Santa likes books and how much Santa wants kids to like books and that those books from Santa are very special. Something. I don't think he needs a full blown lecture. He's three and it's Christmas morning. But I do think that he doesn't need an audience of laughing parents. He knew that they thought it was hilarious and he just went with it. I'm sure that reaction is going to go over real well if he ever has his friends over for a birthday party and one of them, God forbid, gives him a book. I'm sure that his little friend will love being screamed at by the kid telling him that books aren't for birthdays.

Knock it off, parents. Do your job (it's right there in your name) and parent your child.

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Ho

Of course, you're not going to send a normal Christmas card if you're Paris Hilton. Considering nothing that she does is normal, why should Christmas be any different? It probably shouldn't, but I guess maybe I was hoping that it would be? I don't know. I guess I always hope that people, no matter how self-centered, self-absorbed and absolutely abhorrent one may be, maybe they can find this time of the year to think about others or simply think about what they're grateful for. Yeah, that didn't happen with her. Here's her Christmas card as proof. Behold!

Seriously. Who thinks that's a great idea for a Christmas card? To get yourself all dolled up in kind of a Marilyn Monroe-esque whorish pose while sitting in some sort of black leather and gold throne thing? I mean, I'm not against having a picture of one's self on a Christmas card. I'm just not used to seeing it be immature, heiress tarts. I'm more used to seeing Christmas cards with families on them. Like the Kardashian's Christmas card. It has their whole family on it. Behold!

Hmm. Probably not the best example that I could have used. Is anyone else feeling a Addams Family vibe from that card? How is that a Christmas card? Why are they dressed like that? Does that one chick have furry green shoulder pads on the outside of her dress? OK, then. That's kind of strange. That's all I've got.

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Worst Christmas Song Ever

I do believe that I have stumbled upon the worst Christmas song ever. And I'm sure you have your guesses, but I feel fairly confident in saying that none of your choices will include this one. And believe me, it was hard to choose between this one and any of Bob Dylan's Christmas songs which seem to include an ample amount of lung butter being regurgitated when he sings them. (Who thought a Bob Dylan Christmas album was a good idea? It is an awful piece of....music. It scares small children and some adults, like me.) But I'm comfortable with my choice for a couple of reasons.

Reason One: It's by John Denver. Who would have thought that the guy who played Gilligan would also record a Christmas song? (What's that? That was Bob Denver? Huh. Sooo...John Denver was...the guy who thought he was such a big shot that he didn't need to make sure he had enough gas in his plane? Is that him? OK, now I'm with you!)

Reason One (now that I know who I'm talking about): It's by John Denver. Who would have thought that the late bespectacled American crooner would be capable of putting out a terrible Christmas song. He tends to have a rather soothing voice. Though more than a couple songs in a row and I kind of want to claw my ears off.

Reason Two: The lyrics are absolutely depressing. They're not melancholy or wistful holiday prose that makes you think back to the Christmases of yore with fond memories of those Norman Rockwell-esque times. No, they remind you that your dad is a drunk and he gets drunk on holidays and last Christmas, he fell down under the Christmas tree and made your mom cry! HOW is that even considered a Christmas song and not some sort of Yuletide suicide anthem?!

The song is entitled "Please Daddy (Don't Get Drunk This Christmas)" and it's just like what it sounds like. It's supposed to be a little almost-eight-year old boy who is pleading with his father to not get drunk like he did last year when he fell under the Christmas tree and the little boy had to see his mom cry at the sight of her lush of a husband rolling on the floor on the day of the celebration of the birth of Christ!

I've included the song below and the lyrics below that. Please don't blow your head off after listening to it. It's not a very Christmas-y thing to do.

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

Just last year when I was only seven

And now I’m almost eight as you can see

You came home at a quarter past eleven

Fell down underneath our Christmas tree

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

Momma smiled and looked outside the window

She told me son, you better go upstairs

Then you laughed and hollered Merry Christmas

I turned around and saw my Momma’s tears

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

Please Daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas

I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

No, I don’t wanna see my Momma cry

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He's Mister Heat Blister

Look, it's kind of late and I'm kind of tired. I had a long day fighting with outdoor Christmas lights. I eventually won, but the lights gave me a run for my money. So, in lieu of some heartfelt mocking, I think I'm going to go with a video clip from that lovely 1974 Rankin-Bass production "The Year Without A Santa Claus". It still amuses me to this day. And that's a good thing because after a day of wrangling with a bunch of little lights that would rather stay in a tangled ball than spread out on the rooftop looking all Christmas-y, I need a little amusement.

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Merry Christmas 2009!

I'm sure I could come up with something ludicrous to put here today. But I think I'll pass. It's Christmas. It just wouldn't seem....right. You know, kinda like one of those inflatable, lit up, manger scenes in someone's front yard? You know that the people mean well, but it just doesn't translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great.


I don't know if this is going to translate into the "feeling of Christmas" all that great either. So to make sure that nothing gets lost in translation, I'm keepin' it short. (But just in case it does get lost in translation, I really am shootin' for the whole "feeling of Christmas" thing here. Just so you know.)

I'm grateful for this day because it's kinda where it all started or where it all starts. Without the historical events which took place on this day, I wouldn't have a chance to be forgiven for all of the times and all of the things that I screw up. And there's a lot of 'em. Trust me. And it's not just me that has that opportunity. It's everyone. Including all of the morons that I mock incessantly. They too can (surprisingly) be forgiven for all of their evil-doings and their oh-so moronic ways.

The whole Christmas thing just makes me happy. And I try to share that happiness with others when given the opportunity. (And in forms other than this blog. Hey. Why are you laughing?) And this year I had an excellent opportunity to spread my own little version of happiness and I totally took fully advantage of said opportunity (seemingly to the delight of others, which was the point). I also try to enjoy those around me and those in my life and give them just one day where their obvious shortcomings don't annoy me. That's my way of spreadin' the joy. That alone makes others grateful as well. Give it a try is all I'm sayin'.

And you know, I really do have more heartfelt feelings about people in my life than I either care to admit or am capable of expressing without either scaring the other person or becoming inadvertently engaged to four different individuals when I'm done. And at the risk of doing either or both of those things, I'd like to let those of you that I know personally know that I think you're all just great. Some a little greater than others, which means there are a few of you who really need to start pulling your weight a bit more, but I still love ya. Usually. And for those of you whom I don't know personally but who read this blog (and don't leave jackass comments), well, I think you guys are just swell also and I appreciate all of the reading. I know it's not always easy and that's why I really appreciate the effort.

So Merry Christmas. Now go spread some cheer. Or some love. Or both. You've got the whole rest of the year for complaing and mocking all of the other crap. Today? Love, cheer, and thanks. Spread a little of that around, will ya? It's Christmas, for cryin' out loud!

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A Politically Correct Christmas Poem

Now, I get pretty frustrated with all of the politically correct crap that's oh-so abundant during the holiday season. I guess I had been under the impression that it's only been recently that politcal correctness had actually run amok to the point that is was obvious to everyone (yet talked about by almost no one). But quite sadly, that is apparently not the case.

I ran across the poem below today. It was wrote in 1992 by a gent by the name of Harvey Ehrlich. Well, it was copyrighted in 1992, so I suppose it could have been written even earlier than that. The point is that is was wrote at least 17 years ago and I swear to you, you'd think that it was penned last week. Seriously. 17 years later and so many folks in society are still acting in the same idiotic manner. What say we try and give that a rest next year, all rightee? Then we can start looking back on this poem and feeling grateful that we're not like this anymore. Now that would truly be a Christmas miracle!

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…

How to live in a world that’s politically correct?

His workers no longer would answer to “Elves,”

“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the North Pole

Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,

Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear

That Santa had better not use just reindeer.

So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,

Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;

The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.

And people had started to call for the cops

When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.

His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”

And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,

Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,

Demanding millions in over-due compensation.

So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,

Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,

Demanding from now on her title was Ms.

And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion

That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,

Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.

Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.

Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.

Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.

Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.

Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.

And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,

Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological

Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt;

Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe’;

And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.

So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;

He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,

But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.

His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;

Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might

Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,

Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,

Everyone, everywhere…even you.

So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…

“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.”

copyright Harvey Ehrlich, 1992
Notice: This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich. It is free to distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact.

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Happy Belated Festivus!

Hey! Happy Festivus, everybody! Well, Happy Belated Festivus! (There's too many holidays to keep track of now days. Christmas. Hanukkah. Ramandan. Kwanzaa. Sometimes they get lost in the shuffle!)

That's right! It's December 23, the official day of the unofficial holiday of Festivus! For those of you unclear on the concept of Festivus, allow me.

It was December 18, 1997. A Thursday, as I recall. It was late in the evening, perhaps around 9pm, when the 'Seinfeld' episode "The Strike" first aired. It was during that episode that the Frank Costanza character explained to Kramer how it came to be that he, Frank himself, had invented Festivus. According to Frank, "Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way....But out of that a new holiday was born: a Festivus for the rest of us!" And God bless 'im! God bless all the "Seinfeld" cast!!

Just like Christmas and other traditional holidays (or, at least, holidays most people have heard of) there are decorations and activities galore! But unlike Christmas, there is no tree. That's right! No tree! (Happy now, environmentalists? Happy now, all of you 'Save the Rainforest' freakazoids? Happy?!!) Instead there is a pole. According to Frank, the reason for the pole is that "It requires no decoration. I find tinsel distracting....It's made from aluminum. Very high strength-to-weight ratio." (I, too, find tinsel, and other shiny objects, quite distracting. So this is a welcome element to the tradition because sometimes I...hey! What's blinking over there....?)During the year when it is not Festivus season, the pole is stored away (similar to what you do with your artificial Christmas tree if you have chosen to destroy the environment that way). Frank stores his in the crawlspace of the attic. (I thought I'd throw that in there in case you were for at a loss as to what you could do with your Festivus pole throughout the year.)

There doesn't seem to be a "traditional" Festivus food or meal. You can pretty much have whatever you want. After all, it's Festivus! But immediately after the big Festivus meal has been served (you kind of just assume that whatever it is, it's going to be big. I don't know why, but you just do.) that is when the traditional activities of the holiday take place. And you don't want to miss these. Oh, no! First up, the Airing of Grievances.

The Airing of Grievances, again according to Frank Costanza, "...consists of lashing out at others and the world about how one has been disappointed in the past year." (Interesting. That was just known as "dinnertime" in my house growing up.) It sounds like a fab-ulous idea! Better yet, there's no need to apologize or hug and make up after you've aired all said grievances! Wonderful! Festivus, a holiday of liberating proportions! (In "The Strike" Frank gets the Airing of Grievances rolling by starting with "The tradition of Festivus begins with the Airing of Grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now, you're gonna hear about it. You, Kruger. My son tells me your company STINKS!" Again, most excellent!)

Once grievances are aired and the Festivus (or Feastivus) is completed, then it is time for the Feats of Strength! The Feats of Strengths follow these guidelines: "Traditionally, the head of the household selects one person at the Festivus celebration and challenges that person to a wrestling match. The person may decline if they have something else to do, such as pull a double shift at work. Tradition states that Festivus is not over until the head of the household is pinned in a wrestling match." It sort of has that WWF feel to it, only without all of the fakery and the steroids (as far as we know). As we all know what a stressful time the holiday season can be, I suggest having an ample supply of protective headgear available for the very young and the elderly. Everyone else just has to tough it out. It's unclear in the Festivus yore if the head of the household pins his wrestling opponent of choice if he selects another victim or if that poor sap must continue until, if ever, he pins down the household head.

Judging from the way that Festivus was invented, it's pretty safe to say that there is no gift giving during the Festivus holiday. And that's just fine because in reality? Most people are not very good gift givers. Just take George Costanza, Frank's son. The son that he was buying the doll for when all hell broke loose. During the same episode in which Festivus was introduced to the rest of the world (or, at least, the world with US television programming) George gave "charitable donations" in the recipient's name as Christmas gifts that year. It's the one gift that people don't like, don't want, and will never say another word about. Why? Because it's a charity! You can't bad mouth a charity! (But you can bad mouth George because his "charity" was fictional. He made it up. Thus, all of his Christmas gifts said "A donation has been made in your name to 'The Human Fund: Money For People.' " It's as brilliant as it is despicable.)

What a glorious holiday! Aluminum poles, aired grievances, feats of pinning strength! It all sounds very cathartic. What could possibly go wrong?! Both nothing and everything, that is correct. Just let the thing run it's course and you'll be fine either way. So again, Happy Festivus everyone! Where's my pole?

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Santa is NOT Hazardous to Your Health

Who are you people who get a Ph.D or an MD and have the title "Dr." in front of your name and then decide that you know everything whether it related to what your degree is in or not and decide to proclaim your self-decided knowledge as the gospel of whatever. (Gospel of jackassery, from what I can tell here, but whatever you'd like to call it is fine with me.) Are you folks so danged miserable in your own lives that you just have to be a certain kind of a jackass around everyone else? Naturally, I'm not saying that all folks who are doctors are like this. But for those of you who are? Could you do us all a favor? Pipe down and go away, please? And while you're at it, leave Santa Claus out of your quackery, all right? All right.

Let's take a look at a one Dr Nathan Grills from Australia's Monash University. Now, I don't know if he has done an actual "study" or if he has just taken the liberty to use his title of "doctor" as a way to publish what is essentially an editorial piece in the British Medical Journal, but I do know that he's so completely full of crap that it almost makes me angry. And I'm not sure if I'm angry at him or if I'm angry at a medical journal for publishing this garbage. It's a medical journal! It's supposed to be about medicine! It's not supposed to be having articles/papers by some 27-year old doctor in Australia who claims that Santa Claus is a "...promoter of obesity, disease and even driving under the influence" and is, therefore, a bad influence for children.

::: blink ::: ::: blink :::

Um, what now? Santa....Santa Claus is....is....Good Lord, man. What is wrong with you?!

According to the fine folks down under at the Herald Sun in an article titled "Boozy, fat Santa a 'bad example' (there's a catchy title!), we learn that this moron, this Dr. Grills, claims that Santa Claus is "...acting in ways that could damage millions of lives." Now, if you haven't decided that this definitely signals the end of all humanity and have rushed off to spend more time with your loved ones before society implodes upon itself, keep reading and I'll tell you how Dr. Grills claims that Santa is doing all of this. (Have a drink while you're reading if it helps! It certainly doesn't hurt when you're reading other posts now, does it?)

Grills (I'm dropping the "Dr." for the rest of this post, as I just can not stomach it) claims that "Santa's "rotund sedentary image" had the effect of making "obesity synonymous with cheerfulness and joviality" around the world." Ah, yes. The synonymous cheerful and jovial fat man which has taken over all parts of the globe including Somalia!

Ethiopia!

And Madagascar! Behold!

Yeah, I'm not seeing a whole lot of obesity, nor cheerfulness and joviality over there, how about you, Mr. Grills? Seriously. When I think "obesity" I don't think "Santa Claus". I think stuff like this. Behold!

Now that does not make me jovial nor cheerful. It makes me a little bit nauseous if you really want to know. But Santa Claus? He never makes me nauseous. (OK, the ones at the malls make me a little nervous sometimes, but nauseous? Never.)

Mr. Grills "....also noted that children are encouraged to leave out hard liquor such as Brandy for a man who has a lot of travel to do in one night." OK, see, this is where you can tell that Mr. Grills is so full of himself that he is unable to see past only what exists in his own world. Over here in America, we do not leave brandy out for Santa. We leave milk and we leave cookies. People who want to be all cutsey leave out carrots for his reindeer (do reindeer even eat carrots?). We're not wasting good brandy on some guy who, essentially, breaks into our homes. Milk. Milk and delicious cookies. Pay attention, Nathan! There are lots of traditions around the world besides yours! Shocking, I know!

Continuing along the article of idiocy, "Other dangerous activities on Santa's list of festive wrongdoings include "speeding, disregard for road rules and extreme sports such as roof surfing and chimney jumping", because "despite the risks of high speed air travel, he is never depicted wearing a seatbelt or helmet". Oh, for God's sake. What is wrong with you sir?!

First of all, you have NO idea if the man is speeding or not. If you're basing that on the fact that he has to visit every house on the entire planet, well then, I think that you've just stated the reason for making that concern completely idiotic. As far as the "road rules", um, Santa flies his sleigh in the skies. There are no roads up there. I've been in a plane and you know what I didn't see when I was flying? That's right. Roads. And those "extreme sports" you cite? I don't know that you know that he does that. I cannot recall the "roof surfing" and the jumping from chimney to chimney as part of my Christmas time lore when I was a child. Or even now (when I tend to act childlike).

What, exactly, are the "risks of high speed air travel" as you see them, Mr. Grills? When I'm on an airplane, that's "high speed air travel" is it not? I have never worn a helmet on a plane and I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you have not either, you jackass. (And if I'm wrong and you have worn a helmet on a plane, just what do you think that is going to do for you if you're plummeting towards the earth?)

So what does Mr. Grills suggest we do about such non-existent atrocities that are occurring during the most wonderful time of the year? Well, he "...recommended that instead of using a sleigh, the man himself should be "encouraged to adopt a more active method to deliver toys - swapping his reindeer for a bike or simply walking or jogging". I don't know about you, but although I know next to nothing about piloting a flying sleigh led by eight tiny reindeer and Rudolph, I would hardly call it "inactive". Is Mr. Grills suggesting that we make Christmas be on every single day of December? Because if he's going to have Santa walking from house to house, that's going to be a bit time consuming. It's hardly an activity that can be accomplished in one night. If you put all of the brandy that Mr. Grills is leaving out for the man, it could take all damn year as a boozed up Santa staggers from street to street. How is he supposed to get into our homes if he walks? You want him to jog carrying that sack of toys?! That's not going to happen! Oh, wait! Mr. Grills probably wants him to put the presents in one of those baby jogger stroller things that everyone is always pushing around while they jog. Yeah, that sounds real traditional. That's something youngsters will really be able to sink their imagination into all right.

Listen. Mr. Grills. In all of your reasoning as to why this whole deal with Santa is a problem, you've overlooked one key point. (Spoiler alert here!) See, Santa Claus isn't real. This stuff that you've described that he does? Yeah, that doesn't really happen. And when kids get to the age where they, sadly, don't believe in Santa Claus anymore, then that's when they know that those things don't happen. They're not going to be sitting around wondering how a drunken Santa is driving the sleigh without crashing through their rooftops. No, they're going to be wondering if they can stay awake longer than their parents so that they can sneak back out to the fireplace and sip that brandy themselves!

Lay off of the Christmas traditions, Mr. Grills. Put your sanctimonious conclusions somewhere that isn't going to annoy anyone else. That would include not in a medical journal. And folks over there at the British Medical Journal, what were you folks thinking? Don't give this man and other folks like him a platform to spew such ridiculousness. You're supposed to be publishing papers on how you're working on curing cancer and helping the blind to see and stuff like that. You're not supposed to be publishing papers about why someone doesn't like a fictional character. Next thing you know, Nature is going to publish an article "Why Spongebob is Offensive to Other Porous and Multi-Celled Aquatic Organisms".

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