A Merry Christmas Parable

Christmas is a scant few days away, and my shopping is almost complete. There are a few outstanding issues with stupid-ass [company name withheld to maintain surprise] that need to be resolved for me to really rest easy, but such is life. What's Christmas without some ulcers, right? Anyway, seems the blizzards are keeping work from sending me emails, so I've had another plum cherry day of sitting on my flattening ass, listening to 102.1 The Edge playing the same 4 songs over and over [and over] (and over). So I thought I'd tell you all a story. Hopefully you'll learn a valuable lesson about the true meaning of Christmas.

THE NAKED SANTA 

and what became of the disembodied head

The Naked Santa was an old-fashioned soul. He was respectful of his enemies,

especially those as heinous and fearful as Santa Claus.   

 So, during the worst storm the frozen North had seen in some many long years,

the Naked Santa and his faithful steed trode off into the friscalating dusklight

to lay the accursed head of Santa Claus in a safe and hidden place.

Far off in the lost white reaches was the place

all of the Naked Santa's slain enemies had been placed...

...and underneath the unmarked stone, the Naked Santa set to work.

Buried low where none may find it, the Naked Santa was confident

his ancient enemy had finally been defeated,

unaware that the puissant Santa Claus had many devoted minions.

So with unfounded confidence in his unclothed breast, the Naked Santa sped away,

failing to heed the arrival of the MURDERBEAR, dragging a confused Elf.

The MURDERBEAR was one of Santa Claus' first toys,

a great fluffy beast of bottomless wickedness and moronical devotion.

It also knew the secret to reviving Santa Claus,

should he ever be stricken down.

Sweet, minty Elf blood.

As the candy-scented fluid seeped into the newly-turned earth,

the MURDERBEAR smiled, then went home for some Panettone.

 There was a rumbling underground, and the faint jingling of bells.

Somewhere, a reindeer grunted.

And Santa Claus was reborn!

 And the moral of the story is clearly that Santa Claus is sorta creepy if you think about it. I mean, sure, he gives you stuff, but he does a terrible amount of breaking and entering to do so, and where does he get off deciding if I'm "good" or "naughty"? It all seems rather fascist to me.

Anyway, yeah, I'm super slow-beans with this blog thing, so I highly doubt I'm gonna do another one until January. So until then;

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

This is all sorts of festive horrible.