It's that time of year again, and the snow is falling down to the ground. It's cold as...well apparently not hell...and ice cicles threaten your eyes. Your parents take you to the mall to sit on Santa's lap, and first of all he is a jerk. When it is finally your turn he gets in you face and shouts,supposedly jolly, "HO HO HO!" you lean away trying to get away from his beer scented breath. You think you wet yourself a little as a warmth filles in you pull-up. Through tears you state that you want a G.I. Joe as your ripped from the man in the red suits lap by a tired and crabby elf. On your way home you cry your eyes out thinking you won't get what you want, but when you get up the next morning and tear open your brightly wrapped presents, you find your G.I. Joe! You run into the yard, and strap him onto a homemade rocket. I light the match and watch it disappear into the empty, grey sky. To this day I haven't seen that rocket, or may G.I. Joe. I am also STILL embarressed for peeing on that drunken Santa's lap....Well....maybe not.

-Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!