Santa sucks. We all know this. I mean, I’ve been talking about it for how many posts? Still not even close to the number of 50 Shades posts? Eh. Anyway, I’ve been shopping for gifts and thinking of those poor parents who are still playing the Santa game and how this Santa freak is taking all the credit. Adults are getting rightly tired of this crap. Well adults with the exception of Megyn, Fox News anchor, who still believes in Santa, white Santa, because she’s not too bright. That also explains why she can’t spell her name correctly. But most adults do not believe in Santa, and are ready to kick the jolly fat jerk.
Wait, did someone say kick? Guess what? You’re in luck! There is a game that the Things introduced to me – it’s totally educational. No, really. It’s from a Math site, so you can learn Math stuphs while having a reindeer kick Santa toward a chimney. You know the reindeer have totally been waiting for this chance for centuries. As the game goes on, the challenges get greater. Sometimes you have fans blowing Santa into fire and stuph. Or he gets impaled, bloodless of course, on spikes. Because it’s a kid’s game.
Other times he just smashes into walls, and flops down. It’s like his body is made out of stuffing. Like toy Santas. At – at least I think they’re toy Santas. We’re gonna go with toys, not dead bodies of the multiple Santa clones seen in malls the world over.
It’s such a popular game that they have come out with Santa Kicker I, II, and III! I love it when people makes stuff so I don’t have to! Also so I don’t look like the only disturbed individual! Anyway, the best part of this game is that it is free and on the internetz so you can play it anytime! Except work of course! You wouldn’t do that, would you? Of course you would. Go check it out. http://www.coolmath-games.com/holiday-Christmas-games-puzzles/super-santa-kicker/
Ah, Santa Claus. He’s a hoot because he gives you a chance to lie to your kids and get away with it. It’s for a greater cause, of course – getting the little punks to behave lest they lose any of their much wanted merchandise. Recently, Santa has gotten lazy, though, and enlisted the help of the elf on the shelf. This little freak narcs on kids to Santa for an entire flipping month. He’s so creepy. That . . . that grin. And he keeps moving around. You never know where he’ll be. Some elves even stage elaborate pranks. This scares the heck out of me, and I’m not even a small child.
Why do you need an elf anyway? Isn’t Santa scary enough? Oh, sure, Coca Cola painted him as a fat old jolly fellow in a red suit, but they also made polar bears look adorable, and those things can rip your face off. All you have to do is listen to songs about Santa to make you start questioning this kind little fairy tale we all tell to our kids. Well, most of us think it’s a fairy tale. Fox News had four commentators on – there’s actual video – discussing Santa’s ethnicity. In case you were wondering, he’s white. According to Megyn, Fox News Host, that’s a “verifiable fact.” Also in discussion was Jesus who naturally was also white. So I guess that explains why some minority children get crappy gifts. Anyway, some people believe in Jesus and others don’t, but I’m pretty sure most people over eight or so realize Santa is imaginary. And thank goodness for that. Here’s just three songs that point out why I find Santa kind of scary, and you should too. But first, check out the scariness of Fox News.
Exhibit A: Santa Claus is coming to town
This has to be the worst one of the bunch. Just for kicks, try replacing “Santa Claus” with “Serial Killer”.
You better watch out, better not cry
Better not pout I’m telling you why
Serial killer is coming to town.
See? Happy, happy! Note that you can also replace “Santa Claus” with “Christian Grey” and get the same effect. These next lines, slightly edited by yours truly, show that Santa is really not to be trusted.
He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake
He knows what your address is man
So lock your door for goodness sakes
Elf on the shelf really can’t come close to that kind of terrifying wackiness. I don’t even think he has a song unless you count “Somebody’s watching me” or “Every Breath You Take”.
Exhibit B: Up on the House Top
This one’s just really, really odd. I had to look up the lyrics because they didn’t make sense and they still don’t make sense.
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn’t go
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn’t go
up on the house top click, click, click,
down through the chimney with good St. Nick.
Well, I wouldn’t go up on the housetop and I’m not so sure we should be encouraging children to do this either. Hey, there’s some weirdo on the roof, Willy, why don’t you go check that out? Don’t worry, honey, you can slide down the chimney to get back down! Then you can open your stocking and see what totally appropriate toys Santa got you!
Next comes the stocking of little Will
Oh, just see what a glorious fill
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks
Also a ball and a whip that cracks
Holy crap. I’m thinking this is just asking for a trip to the ER and multiple lawsuits here. Little Nell better hide her dolly unless she wants her brother to hammer some tacks in her. Or use his whip. I can’t believe whips weren’t on the top toys list for Toys R Us this year. Ah, the good old days when you could give your kids fun stuff like whips, hammers, and lawn darts.
The next song really confuses the heck out of me, but it does lend credence to the theory, sported by my then four-year-old daughter Thing One, that Santa works for God. Something like middle management, I guess.
Exhibit C: Here Comes Santa Claus
Hang your stockings and say your prayers
Cause Santa Claus comes tonight!
Why do we need prayers? Are these prayers that Santa is okay, or prayers that Santa leaves our house untouched?
Santa Claus knows we’re all God’s children
That makes everything right
We are? All of us? What about the kids who are other religions? Do they not count? I thought Santa was Pagan. When did he convert? I’m really confused here. Maybe Fox News could explain this to me a little better.
So let’s give thanks to the Lord above
That Santa Claus comes tonight
We’re thanking God for Santa Claus? So then – God created Santa? But wait, if Santa’s not real, then is this song lying about God? I mean, talk about a way to mess with a child’s mind there. Or does Santa just hire out maybe? Like he works for Pagans sometimes, and Christians sometimes, and Muslims sometimes, but this particular song writer just assumes that Santa is Christian? If this isn’t a Fox News Christmas Song, I don’t know what is, you guys. Let’s thank baby Jesus for sending us white Santa Claus who stalked us and snuck in our houses and gave us weapons, la la la la la! Yay!
Yay, it’s time for another Christmas special with Alice. Is it that time of year already? That time when everyone is happy, slappy with joy and the spirit of Macy’s and crap? Yes, yes it is! Am I going to ruin this lovely day for you just like I did Halloween and Thanksgiving? Most likely. Unless it’s ruined already. If so, settle on down and let me tell you a story.
The story of Christmas goes like this. Once upon a time, there was this couple who had to take the census but they lost the form so they had to go all the way across town to get another one. But they were totally on welfare, see, so all they had was this used donkey that was on its last leg. Literally, it just had one leg. Made travel difficult. Also, the girl, Mary, was preggers, and wanted to stop and pee for the 45th time that night. Her husband, Joseph, was all “Like, we’re almost there, jeez” but he stopped anyway because you don’t mess with hormones.
They tried to get a room at the inn, but the innkeeper was like, crap, it’s Christmas, like I have any rooms? (buh-dum-dum!) Then Mary had to go into labor, because babies always pick the most convenient times to be born. So Joseph, being a man, decided they’d just deliver the baby in that sterile barn over there. And Mary said, “Are you freaking kidding?” But like, the nearest hospital was like, a long way away and the one-legged donkey was dead so they went to the barn.
Fortunately, there was a cow that happened to be a super good midwife, so Mary managed to deliver the baby with only the usual amount of horrific pain and screaming. This was a memory she treasured up in her heart, for who wouldn’t want to remember giving birth while a dirty sheep bleated in your ear? So they had this baby boy, but he wasn’t any ordinary boy, he was the son of God. That’s how the story goes, shut up. But even being a special baby, the cow still charged them for the lowing and the innkeeper said they had to pay him up front for use of the barn and they didn’t have insurance so they weren’t gonna get to stay much longer. That’s the breaks.
Anyway, they named him Jesus, and Joseph like tweeted the news out to the land, and people started showing up with presents and stuff. There was gold, and incense, and Frankenstein – I’m not sure why he decided to come. But no one brought baby wipes or Huggies, because that might have actually helped Mary out some. Some obnoxious kid came with his drum and played until they kicked him out. And Mary said to Joseph, “We will never buy Jesus a drum. Ever.”
Then Santa Claus landed his sleigh on the roof of the manger, and Joseph said, “You are not part of this story.” And Santa said, “Look, I brought you guys the diaper genie.” And Mary said Santa was okay with her. So he got to stay.
So anyway, all this happened on Christmas Day, which is why we celebrate Christmas by buying each other lots of expensive, useless crap in remembrance of the Wise Men and Santa and their gifts. Oh, and Jesus too, because he grew up and did some cool stuff before we were jerks and killed him. But that’s another story. I’ll save it and mess up your Easter.
Now that you’ve heard the story, I’ll leave you with this picture of Thing Two’s gingerbread house. She said, and I quote, “I ran out of licorice for the “Keep Out” sign. And it looks like a homeless guy’s house. Best I could do.”
Today I am proud to announce my very first guest blogger, Ravin from Ravin’s Rantings. Ravin has been my friend since I was just a 12 year old slightly deranged person. We are a tad older now, but she is still here – and now on my blog! Her firm is representing Santa, but it doesn’t look good for him, you guyz. Check it out:
Dear Mr. Claus,
I was alarmed and saddened to hear of the recent situation you face with Alice. We here at Elf Law are of course at your service. I must, however, advise you to settle out with Alice, for several reasons.
First, a lawsuit would not go well. The bad publicity would threaten your endorsement contracts with Coca-Cola and retailers.
Secondly, while I am aware that you have declared the North Pole a sovereign nation and yourself Absolute Dictator for Immortal Life, Russia and Norway would likely dispute your claim. Further, the North Pole Code took over five hundred years to develop in its modern form through careful negotiation between you and the native population of Elves. You already have a dubious track record with indigenous people:
If word of the nuclear power plant violation of the North Pole Code got out, The Elves Local #1 would strike, and force you to source new workers and move your workshop off-planet. Child labor trafficking isn’t as cheap as it was in the 50′s, Santa. You really don’t want to go there. You already have a criminal record, need I remind you?
I think it is also pertinent to remind you what happened the last time you allowed a feud with a mortal to escalate.
In conclusion, the next time you have a dispute with a mortal, I suggest you call our office immediately, before taking actions that may be grounds for an emotional distress tort claim. Unfriending her and unfollowing her were reasonable decisions. Taunting and provoking a clearly unstable person by mentioning that you had done so may have gone beyond the bounds.
Had you simply cross-referenced her against our records, you would have found that you were under no obligation to respond to her letter or deliver anything to her, as your contract requires only delivery to minor children and she is an adult, pinafore notwithstanding. Additionally, Wonderland is outside our delivery area because of the undue hazard of entering the jurisdiction of the Red Queen and the relative lack of mortal children there.
However, given the mess you have made of the situation, taking her offer of an exchange in an alternative delivery location would be the prudent action at this time.
Elf Law, L.L.C.
Well, this was getting out of hand, so I figured I needed some representation, STAT! Fortunately Thing One offered some advice as well as the help of her firm.
(In other words, part of this post was Thing One’s idea.)
From: The Law Offices of Thing One, Thing Two, Sad Pony, & Squirrel
To: Mr. Santa Edward Claus
c/c: Reindeer Incident
Dear Mr. Claus:
We refer to the incident involving the alleged kidnapping of one Rudolf Reindeer on the night of December 12, 2012. Our client respectfully has no idea what you are talking about. Said reindeer simply followed her home one day and our fellow attorney Sad Pony was there taking notes for the upcoming court case. Our client consents to returning said reindeer, but requires back payment of Christmas Presents for the last thirty or so years in return.
It has also come to our attention that you have a nuclear factory located within 50 miles of your workshop. This is against North Pole code, and has possibly resulted in the glowing red nose of said reindeer as well as the various mutations found in some of your elves. It would be in your best interest to cease and desist operating your factory, before more legal action is taken against you.
Thing One, Thing Two, Sad Pony, & Squirrel, LLC
That Santa is messing with the wrong girl. I decided to send him a friendly-type reminder via email.
From: Alice the Terminator [firstname.lastname@example.org]
To: Santa Jerk [ThebigSman@northpole.com]
Subject: What blinks red and poops glitter?
Forgot to mention one little thing. Ding ding. That’s the sound of a reindeer harness. I have the best new flashlight ever. Also, a great lawn ornament. The most realistic on my block. Just sayin’.
Ooh, look, and here’s a picture:
Looking forward to my Noo-Noo. Hint, hint.
P.S. It was way too easy to hack into your Facebook, Santa. “Ho, ho, ho” is a really lame password. Anyway, you are now friends with E.L. James. F.Y.I.