Fractured Christmas Carols

The boys and I have been working on mutilating a few of our favorite seasonal songs. We thought we should share. The tunes should be obvious.

Down from the housetop,
Reindeer fall,
Oh my God he’s killed them all!
There’s venison all over the lawn,
What’ll we do now?
Christmas’ gone.

Oh no no,
Please don’t go
Oh no no,
Please don’t go…

Up on the housetop,
Slip, slip, slip,
Crashing to the ground comes old St. Nick

And now for something more somber:

We three kings of Orient are,
Wishing we had driven a car,
Camels lumpy,
Desert’s bumpy,
Bethlehem’s fricken’ far.

Oh, oh,
We all wonder if we might,
Get to Bethlehem tonight,
Camel’s wheezing,
Man it’s freezing,
Why’d we follow that stupid light.

Merry Christmahanakwanzaa to all, and to all good Solstice

If the Shoe Fits…

I ran across this little news tidbit today. I suppose this could be considered offensive to those involved, but I have solid intelligence that slime-mould beetles have a good sense of humor.

The guardians of animal nomenclature had mixed feelings over a proposal to name three newly-discovered species of slime-mould beetle after US President George W. Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney and Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld. A pair of insect experts reserved the names Agathidium bushi, Agathidium cheneyi and Agathidium rumsfeldi for their latest creepy-crawlies.

You Better Watch Out… Santa

My toddling niece is approaching her third Christmas much like she approaches life in general. And in case you don’t know her, suffice it to say that she is red-headed all the way down to her marrow, and cute enough to get away with it.

Like many kids her age, she made the pilgrimage to see Santa. Unlike many, she wasn’t scared or reluctant. When it was her turn, she marched on up. And Santa said in his Santa way, “So little girl, what would you like for Christmas?”

She didn’t hesitate, but looked him square in the eye, and in her best pre-school voice announced, “I want to fly.”

Santa apparently handled the request well and tried to manage her expectations. But I’m pretty sure he’s gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do when she hops out of bed Christmas morning and lands on her feet.