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Talk to the virtual wall
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Planned birth children are entirely too smug. Those non-bastards.
Santa’s wife on him about goofing off the rest of the year.
Alex Moskwa: “Santa, why aren’t you out there enforcing your trademarks?”
Beware. Elf Lawyers are viciously litigious.
Attempt to sleep the whole day failed at 11 AM. My fault. I did not train enough.
I have ingredients to make Gingerbread Men.
And the requisite man cutter.
I suppose any knife qualifies as a “man cutter.”
Christmas Eve Dinner of Steel Cut Oats. Evidently I live in a Charles Dickens Novel.
How come I can’t wear a pope hat? Is it unfashionable, like the Toothbrush mustache?
Why are fundamentalist Christians bad at math? Because they can only count to three.
And even then the calculations are often questionable.
When atheists invite you to Christmas, no ulterior motives. Also, no church. Hurrah!
Danger is the only thing I flirt with. Danger is very receptive.
Older lady backed into me in the supermarket parking lot, 6:20. Wouldn’t have happened if I were in a dirigible. Let the new decade bring the return of dirigibles.
The skies full of personal dirigibles by 2020.
How will it look in 20/20 hindsight? Oh, the humanity.
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