In case you're all wondering where Santa has gone now that Christmas has passed, I have some sad news to bring you:
Ho ho ho! Kids share economy woes with Santa*
"You see things behind the beard that nobody else will ever see or hear. I've had children just literally tear my heart out."
So therein lies the end of a long, productive career spreading joy throughout the world... painful death at the hands of some psychotic, bloodthirsty children who've apparently spent too many hours playing Mortal Kombat.
Then again, the tone of this statement suggests an acceptance that only experience can bring. So perhaps this is an annual tradition, like a simple shedding of the skin. Maybe the Easter Bunny drops those eggs in our baskets on his way to deliver the Kiss of Life to kindly old St. Nick each year.
It seems that matchup between Jesus and Santa might be more even than we thought.
* I don't suggest you actually read this article unless you want to feel quite depressed.
Editor's Note: If you enjoyed this forest-missing nitpickery, you might want to peruse Literally, A Web Log.
9 comments:
I always thought being a mall Santa would be the saddest job ever. Stinky and knee breaking, but sad none the less.
You're right - it's sad. Somehow you think children should grow up with a happy foundation, unaware of problems. Plenty of time for reality later when you know how to handle it.
Happy New Year! I've been lurking your blog for a little while now, too afraid to comment for fear of grammatical mistakes. However, ignoring my shortcomings is a resolution.
You make me wish I had a beard that I could hide behind. It would go perfect with the eyes behind my head.
wait, Jesus and santa are friends? related even?
Awesome post!
Cheers,
Anita
I think I'm going to be a mall Santa next year. The children need me. And I could use a few extra dollars.
Thanks to everyone for stopping by!
I'll be around soon enough-- things are just a bit chaotic right now, hence the few days between posts.
I agree that being a Mall Santa would be a rough gig, but not as bad as being the Easter Bunny, methinks.
Happy New Year!
goodfather, I hope you were just exaggerating about the anxiety-- I haven't yet berated anyone for errors in blog comments, since the nature of the medium invites typos like few others.
In general, I save the (good-natured) berating for those closest to me, as well as those who profess to know better as they make genuine errors.
Most everyone is safe from my scorn most of the time-- I've lived long enough already to accept certain things about the world just being the way they are.
And even if you did make a cringe-inducing error, your last line would more than make up for it. Bravo, sir.
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