'Twas the Night Before This Mess...

Little introduction is necessary for this improvised rendition of the holiday classic as it may or may not have happened for me this year after several brandies and some might say too much bourbon...

'Twas the night before Christmas, and somewhere in-house
A martini was stirring, to be placed in my mouth;
Some stockings were hung on the back of a chair,
Because we all know they'd shrink in the dryer;
The neighbors were watching some Walking Dead;
While I wondered whatever happened to Keds;
Some boogers in a 'kerchief, a desire to nap,
But first I needed tending to a big, healthy crap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the can to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I shuffled with pants 3/4th up,
Since I'd not taken the time for wiping my butt.
A half moon was displaying if behind me you'd go,
And I could feel a light breeze there down below,
When what did I feel there dripping down my rear,
But the remnants of a fifth and more than one beer,
With a lingering hangover that could make me sick,
I smiled thinking of a drunken St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles my trousers down came,
And I stumbled and shouted, my cheeks red with shame:
"God, dammit! There's Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
Which is Comet? Which Cupid? Is there a Donner and Blixen?
Seeing fake reindeer in the midst of nature's call!
I must still be quite drunk after all!"
As heaves that post hurricane 40oz fly,
When I tried for vomiting, the heaving was dry;
So up to the housetop this drunkard he flew
With a gullet full of booze on this alcoholic Jew—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of John Wilkes Booth.
As I thought in my head, my face made a frown,
This was the dude that took Abe Lincoln down.
He was dressed in a suit, from his head to his foot,
Damn this was the dude that made Abe's life kaput;
Oh I thought how I'd like to break his back,
Though I guess that'd throw history all out of whack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! an unseen adversary!
His cheeks were quite gaunt, his nose like a fairy!
His damned little mouth was cast in a direction down,
And the 'stache on his lipe was as brown—doo-doo brown;
The hilt of a pistol was hidden underneath,
And I must admit he had rather nice teeth;
He had a slim face and no hint of a belly
But he was down on his luck and really quite smelly.
He was hungry and trim, with an anger not shelved,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a duck of his head
I was reminded how he'd shot honest Abe dead;
He spoke not a word, but pantomimed his work,
And cocked back that hammer—my god, what a jerk,
And laying his finger on the trigger it goes,
And that's about the end to this non-prose;
He fled from the scene, and just then I heard a whistle,
It was the damn kettle, I wish I'd disarmed Booth of pistol.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he faded out of sight—
“I'd do it again, it served Old Abe right!”

Rudolpho: The Red-nosed One

Well I'd fully intended to post this on Christmas Eve, or Christmas day even but life got the best of me, as life has a way of doing.

But I didn't want the length of December to pass without giving a quick shout out to the horrendous modern commercialization of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. I mean hell, this was already commercial, it's not like Rudolph is a real effing reindeer, but this stuff well, as much as I dislike it, I also really love it. So without further ado please queue up Destiny's Child, animated, slutting up Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

A true highlight is when Beyoncé sings, "Rudolph we love you boy!" But don't sleep on the snowman host getting down in the recording booth.

And then there's old pal Regis Philbin giving his rendition, with cameo (and near guest star status) from Donald Trump. Keep your eyes peeled for his breakdancing moves, and his signature catchphrase, all the way at the end.

Ah, Rudolph with your nose so bright, who'll you do a collab with tonight?


Credit to my girlfriend for owning the DVD of the Rudolph television production on which these, let's call them interesting, renditions were housed.

Incidentally, how many children get named Rudolph each year?

Belated wishing of happiness (British) and merriness (American) on your Christmas.

And to all a goodnight.

Solsticed Game

If you live in a place that has seasons and all, chances are you see some rather dramatic shifts in daylight hours. There is something about all of this that led to things like daylight savings. Farmers were involved as well, or at least, supposedly, their best interests. At any rate, in the winter, the days get short and as this is the true start of winter, we're dealing with the winter solstice, which is the longest day...of darkness. But that's a good thing for the many who struggle with the lack of sunlight because every day will now be rockin' progressively more daylight. As much talk as there is about the weather, there is a lot of talk about how all people talk about is the weather. So whether you're talking about weather or whether you'd rather we weren't talking about the weather, you're going to have to weather some weathering discussions.

Oh me? I don't actually hate winter, just its length. Oh what's that, life is usually about compromise? Okay, cool. Wish I could say I'll never bring it up again, but that's just not true.

I was telling some jokes last night at a comedy venue in town and this particular venue has signed headshots of all of the comics that have performed there as, I presume, headliners. There are a lot of photos, and it is a great concept, especially because headshots are, to me, the great equalizer. There is no one who will not look like an asshat, no matter how good the headshot, and that is by virtue of them having a headshot in the first place. I mean, they're a necessity for comedy and acting and all, but they are inevitably embarrassing so, oh right, they have a term for it, the Catch-22. So to Heller with it...

Much more of my time than might be healthy is spent analyzing the commonly used phrases of the Internet, my friend group, the general populace that surrounds me, and so on. I overuse "the thing is..." I have been noticing it a lot of other places, but that's because I noticed I do it and so now am super conscious of the phrase itself. And "chill," I say chill a lot. Most people don't noticed these overuses as much or, at least, are not as bothered by them, but if you point them out, there's a good chance they might be. What I'm getting at is two phrases that must go: "natch, obvi/obvs." Sure, a lot of humor is derived in ironic usage of these words, mockery of those who used them unironically. But let me tell you, it is a fine line. I am thankful I have not heard "natch" uttered in real life, but seeing it in print, even internet print, in something like Forbes...cool I'm done. If anything it sounds to me like Americans trying to sound like cool Brits. Hey, I like British stuff, and I get to pretend to write if off by being British, but I was born and raised here, and I don't say "natch." I sure have typed it a lot though today.

In a quick holiday round-up, how is it that there are so many Christmas songs but the Jews really seem to have half-assed it for Chanukah? Maybe there's not a lot of money in holiday music...

For the purpose of printing text onto a color background I was trying to find out what font colors paired best with background colors. I pretty much googled that very thing and one of the top results was this gem of a site. Thanks Ted. I ended up just winging it.

Oh right, another quick bit about the holidays. Lost in the shuffle of Santa Claus is Santa's counterpoint, a creature that drags out the kids on the naughty list and in a somewhat grizzly turn, devours them. I'm talking about good old Krampus.

Happy holidays folks.

Santa Clause

This one is written in the American Constitution, but not that old weathered document from 1787, the one that declares Christmas is a shopping holiday and not the celebration of the birth of the Jesus Christ character. Religion studies are not my strong point, but then neither is Santa Claus lore. Thanks to the internet, though, you can check out all of his evolution on the linkety-link back there. It's really rather fascinating stuff to poke around in. A lot of us take for granted a whole lot these days, like for instance this internet I am using right here. I believe it is proper grammatical technique to capitalize the word "internet" but I am not down with that because I don't think it's as properly proper as has been proffered by the Merriam's, Websters, and the like. But yeah, for granted, I don't know about you fools but I never really considered where in the heck Old St. Nick came from. I have my doubts as to whether he was a tubbledy man from the North Pole who dressed in red velvet with white trim. The idea of someone sitting down and concocting such a character then seems to line up pretty well with advertising. If I had to do my college thesis over, I might very well analyze the origins of Santa Claus.


This is how I best like to picture Santa.

Of course, there is the possibility that Santa was not always as rotund as he has become. After all he is consuming, milk, eggnog, and lots and lots of cookies. If you believe that he has a fantastic metabolism even at hundreds or thousands of years old, then he may very well be lactose intolerant and horrendously bloated as a result of these alleged dairy gifts. That, and he should be a diabetic. But with my half-Jew faith and half-celebration of Christmas, I never was one of the kids headed to the department store to take a stint on Santa's lap.

This year, though, I had the pleasure, and while Christmas has helped perpetuate, if not spawn, some terribly spoiled individuals, it has also helped foster some simple joys and cheer. Kids look happy as shit to meet Santa, and let's not forget the tree. I mean that and the snow, and the way department stores decorate shit, it looks pretty. And without doing any research as to why The Nutcracker has become a Christmas tradition, I will say that it is one I love. I guess a good reason for it to be performed at Christmas is that the play is set during Christmas. It's really all about the score from my boy Tchaikovsky. It's more than just good music to play Tetris to.

There really is a whole hell of a lot to go over when it comes to Christmas: the love/hate relationship with the music, the showing of Gone With the Wind (which I have still never seen), stockings...So what I'm getting at is that this post is far from complete, and there is surely more to come in inane Christmas commentary. But should I not get to it before the holiday comes upon us, consider this the Happy Christmas post. And there I've gone and forgotten all about Chanukah, my primary holiday, which has come and gone.

Anyway, I hear next year for Chanukah they will offer a Womenorah, in addition to the traditional Menorah, in the name of gender equality.

Meowy Christmouse

It's a few days early to say the least but given the regularity (or lack thereof) of my blogging at times I opted to title this Christmassy. I managed to totally bypass Chanukah. Oops. Makes sense though, as this was easily the least memorable Chanukah I can remember. Yes, worded just like that. It was latke-free among other deficiencies. For shame to my Jewish roots. Next year...

As for Christmas, I mean, there is no denying that I like the lights, the ugly Christmas sweaters (that is the number three image result when searching for "ugly christmas sweater"), and the idea of a lot of the other stuff. Other stuff includes eggnog, cider, and the music. Every year I get excited for eggnog, and I don't know why. This year I even bought some festive eggnog ice cream. This does not go down like the much tastier seasonal pumpkin offering Edy's has. I'm still going to finish eating it, but I'm not really going to enjoy it. Cider is another thing I like on principal, but rarely in practice. I actually am not denying that warm cider has tasty properties, it just doesn't exactly sit well. That is my fault, not the cider's. Sorry cider, not trying to cut you down. And then, of course, there is the music. Man, it's true that I could hear Mariah Carey sing "All I Want for Christmas is You" for a seemingly endless amount of time (bolstered strongly by its association with Love Actually).

And that's another one, the holiday films. Many of them are a miss for me (or perhaps I am amiss?), but I'm watching Elf as I type away here, and man, that really just works for me. I tried to find a reference to the title of this post, but no such luck. I believe it was some horrendous-sounding production that might have appeared on NPR one year as I drove up to Massachusetts for a Christmas past. Oddly relevant is the ad I just witnessed for the new Alvin and the Chipmunks film. Why Jason Lee is in this and why they chose to make it at all are the usual sorts of questions worth asking but so it goes. In the spirit of catty Christmases, I read that article about a woman with hundreds of cats in her Chester Township home. I thought it was extra fitting given "Chester the Cat," but there is no Chester the Cat, I was deluded by the Cheetos cheetah mascot. Oops.

Finally, in the spirit of giving, I am giving praise to Jimmy Fallon. I was pretty low on Jimmy when he first took over the late late spot as he just looked nervous up there, which made me uncomfortable and did not translate well into humor. But Jimmy has really come into his own with performances such as this Neil Young/Fresh Prince parody. Keep up the good work Mr. Fallon.

I think it's high time I cut this entry off as I'm feeling rather distracted so I'm closing out with this Michael Leviton track I've really been feeling of late.



A lot of people were acting like assholes last night and I was tempted to do a little griping here but there's no real need. Dingleberries will be dingleberries...Happy Holidays everyone. May you find yourselves warm and in the company of those you value most.