I know there comes a time in every man's life where he must accept that there's no such thing as a crimson robed specter who flies about the sky every mid-winter night, his form perched upon a large sled borne aloft by eldritch sorceries and witchcraft, and carried by thrice mystified mammals all tethered together as some parody of a chariot. Every man must accept that this specter cannot, in good time and faith, successfully traverse the globe in the span of a moonrise to deliver parcels of dubious origin to every child who prays, willingly or not, for his arrival. Every man must accept that this cycle of cursed flight and deliverance does not happen every winter, and that it is all merely a fairy tale.

Now I for one know that no such unseen crimson specter exists to do all of that, because it is Santa who does all of that already! We need no other!



Still, have a wonderful holiday, dudes and dudettes. Be safe, merry, and warm with those you love.


Just save me some eggnog. Pretty please?



<3 JC