The Fat Chancelor

He comes 'round 'bout this time of year, dripping with bacon and holiday cheer.
His cheeks fulla jerky and his mug fulla beer, something something flying reindeer...
Ho Ho Ho is blah blah say, and he's so fat....something about a sleigh..
Donner and Blitzen and Bob and Mittens and fourteen other names.....

Awww hell.  I can't remember.  It's an old Irish Christmas ditty that makes a lot of fun of Santa Claus for being fat and all drunk and stuff.  It's really not very good for getting people in the Christmas spirit.  Nothing like the dogs barking to the tune of jingle bells.

Can a skinny person be jolly?  I can't picture it.

Advice for Santa:  The white trim on your suit would be completely ruined after the first chimney-dive.  It's only a matter of time before some six-year-old fashion and fabric expert figures that out and sees through your lies.

It probably just me but I mistake Santa Claus for Tim Allen all the time.

Have you ever gone to a restaurant and the server doesn't write down your order, or the orders of anyone else at the table?  He just stands there with his hands behind his back nodding and repeating what you say.  That causes me great anxiety.  Will he get my order right or not? If he does....impressive....if not.....what a dick!  Is it worth the risk dude? All you have to do is WRITE IT DOWN.....dick!  Well, the feeling is quadrupled with Santa.  He sees like four hundred kids a day at the mall.  They sit on his fat sweaty lap and rattle off two dozen toys and games and Lego sets and specific colors of stuff and he doesn't write down a damn thing.  Come on man!  Be professional.  Have a database.  Get these kid's social security numbers, email addresses, birth dates, psychological profiles, and a strand of hair for DNA screening.  If you mess up this order buddy you've opened a can of unfettered hell fury.  What's worse is, you and your little modified fat guy accessible sled will have already skidded back to the north pole before the outbreak and the parents of these insane midgets have to deal with it.  Don't make me ask to see the manager.

I bet no one ever challenged Santa to a race.  He would lose every time.  Unless he uses magic.  Is Santa magic?  It seems like he must be magic or something to actually "do what he does" but they never really come out and say he's magic.  I think he has to be magic since he isn't real.  Most magic things aren't real.  Most fat guys aren't magic, but this guy is different.  He wears the weird matchy-matchy clothes and hat.

It sounds like I hate Santa....and I do.  But I love Christmas and I am joyful and filled with cheer.  But I have a problem with that one song about Santa "coming to town".  It's redundant.  If he knows when you are sleeping, then he would obviously know when you're awake....because that's when you are NOT sleeping.  Also, the song is so threatening.  I always wonder: what's he gonna do to me if I don't be good for goodness sake?  Is he coming here to enforce the "don't cry or pout" rule?

Dear Santa....all I want for Christmas this year is for you to stop scaring the children.  Write that down.