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Thursday, December 29, 2011

Never fond of lyrics


Wednesday, December 21, 2011

They Know That Santa's On His Way. He's Loaded

Since the mention of a satisfied customer pay raise 
in this mornings staff meeting, Melvin had been 
positively perky with the kiddies. 

Kevin always got a warm feeling whenever he sat on Santa's lap, and he was not above sharing
The McDonald's forehead product placement was OK, but the latex gloves were a little Stephen King. 
To Moms chagrin, both Junior and Santa were watching Oprah.
Fortunately, Muffys Mommy had been investing yearly in her works cafeteria spending plans option for child psychotherapy

Monday, December 12, 2011

Christmas decor survival — for manly men

Subpar.  I'll get it right next year.
This blog has been edited severly and posted here:


Christmas music for those who wear earplugs

Justin Bieber in four years when the meds wear off

At my house we are in the throes of the holidays — as evidenced by the half-eaten candy canes stuck to the dog and the extension cord-laden Christmas tree that is duct-taped to the front room fireplace.

All my radio stations are tuned to the “all Christmas with no bathroom breaks” stations — except for those that play twangy Christmas country music (as opposed to the one station playing good Christmas country music, which now plays classic rock).

Frankly, I would rather chew my leg off than listen to any more country holiday whining. And, I would rather not hear about that unfortunate boy's reasoning for buying high-heeled shoes. It is admittedly a sensitive subject, but it's a song as emotionally manipulative as Steven Spielberg in a wheelchair wearing the color purple.

This brings me to my first annual list of the worst songs of the holidays.

My wife suggests I leave this list for the last week of the holidays when we are all plum tuckered out of Christmas music so that I don’t look like a Grinch. However, she is the one who suggested that we decorate the house with twinkle lights higher than anyone ever has before and made me rent a cell phone tower for our front yard. So, this one is my call.

First, and already mentioned, is the song of “The Christmas Pumps,” or whatever it’s called. Little known fact: It was performed and produced by a blind orphan.

Let's jump right to the next song, listing the horrors in no particular order.

There are two kinds of people in this world: people who like Neil Diamond and people who think he shouldn’t be allowed near a microphone from just after Halloween through to and including Valentine’s Day. While we are at it, someone ask Johnny Mathis to take a vacation during the same time period.

Frankly, anytime I hear Johnny sing “Sleigh Ride” I am left with too many unanswered questions.

The members of the original Beatles are responsible for songs four and five. I understand their creative aversion to holiday staples like “Jingle Bells” or “The Twelve Days Of Christmas” — artistic individuality and all — but “So This Is Christmas” and “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time” are John Lennon's and Sir Paul's most iffy offerings. Coincidentally, suicide rates are highest during the holidays. Do some math.

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, The very next day I hurled on my slacks. This year, To save me from tears... I won’t listen to George Michael."

The other song Mr. Wham contributed to is just as bad. With all due respect to honorable causes, “Do They Know It's Christmas Time?” — alternative title “Pray for Another Song” featuring Boy George and other unemployed English lads (Sting being the exception to the rule) — makes me wish my ear wax would just seal off the two appendages altogether. It is, however, a perfect song for drowning out the sound of the electric can openers or teeth being drilled.

The Trans-Siberian Orchestra version of “Ring, Christmas Bells/Christmas Eve" makes the little voices in my head converse all at once on the topic of mortality and wider freeways. Then the little voices all start disco dancing.

Belinda Carlisle of the Go-Go's fame recreating Judy Garland's famous “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” sounds like she started the celebratory eggnog a little early, and I'm thinking Memorial Day.

“Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree” would be considered garbage if not for the charming Brenda Lee, and John Denver singing as a 7-year-old in “Daddy, Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas” leaves me fondly remembering cherished school days of fingernails on a chalkboard. Anything else by the former Mr. Dusseldorf is gold, including his duets with muppets. Try those instead.

Penultimately, “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” should not be sung by anyone. Ever. Michael Jackson couldn’t do it. Celion Dion can’t do it. I don’t think Beverly Sills or even Sandi Patti accompanied by the Happy Jerusalem Synthesized Ensemble, employing seven key changes, could save it.

Finally, I give you anything sung by Kathie Lee Gifford — especially “Mary, Did You Know?” Believe me, Mary, being great with knowledge, was better off not knowing.

Now I like Kathie Lee as much as the next guy — unless the next guy has invested his kids' college funds in plastic or silicone in which case he would like her more. Want the scuffle in Afghanistan to be over? Ship her to Kabul for a series of humanitarian holiday freebies and those poor rebels will be crawling out of the hills begging to be cauterized at the neck. War over.

The best of the best? Try Christmas songs by Frank Sinatra, the Carpenters, Doris Day, Natalie and Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Amy Grant, Harry Connick Jr., Mel Torme, James Taylor, Ray Conniff and, lastly, the Muppets.

Merry Christmas, darling.