Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

After only 5 months… another entry.

I just saw on the NORAD website that Santa Claus is being tracked somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean right now. He must be taking care of AquaMan’s little ones…

By the way, today is Christmas Eve. Or as a man who is concerned about dates would say, December 24th.

What am I doing this most festive of holidays? Why watching TV and eating soup, of course.

I guess I’m just not really getting into the Christmas spirit like some people. Usually by this time, I’m singing carols and nursing a glass of eggnog while I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. This year, the only thing I’m nursing is a 40 ounce of malt liquor while I bask in front of the warm glow of the Playboy Channel.

That was a joke — we actually don’t get the Playboy Channel at my house. Well, I should say we don’t get a CLEAR version of the Playboy Channel. The scrambled one comes in just fine.

Do porno channels offer a wide variety of holiday programming? I’ve always kind of wondered about that…

By the way, while I am on the subject of Christmas, I should mention that I am poor and cannot afford to buy my friends nice things. In order to buy their presents I am going to use the money I get on Christmas to pay for my shopping. I hope that isn’t against the rules or anything like that.

As for myself, short of the World’s Largest Diamond, there really is nothing I want for Christmas. Well, I shouldn’t say that. There IS one thing………

Don’t you hate cryptic sentences that end paragraphs? I know I do.

It appears as though St. Nicholas is growing closer and closer to Nova Scotia as I type. Yet, here I am — still awake.

Personally, I’m a little afraid to even go to sleep. If you ask me, I think people are a little too trusting of this “Santa” character much too fast. When/if this Artic Elf lands on my roof, the only “milk and cookies” he’s going to get will be both barrels of my shotgun.

Wouldn’t that be something? I’d be famous for being the person who killed Santa Claus. Kind of like Tim Allen did in that movie, The Santa Clause. What a horrible movie that was.

Speaking of movies (though this one is not horrible), Anastasia was on just a little bit ago. I watched most of it. You can thank the members of my favorite quad at OU for helping me develop an interest in that movie.

That reminds me of an issue I’ve been brooding about. You see, the other night I gave a long-winded request for someone I know to bring a certain movie about a certain pig with them when they came back to school. I thought this request was quite excellent. In fact, I would rank it as one of the most nicely-worded requests I have ever said. Not THE best, but ONE OF the best. This request was granted on terms, but, unfortunately, was also met with a great deal of contempt.

Now, the terms part I can understand without a problem; she doesn’t know where the movie is. The thing that I DON’T understand is the contempt. I honestly just don’t get it. Maybe I was too nice? Maybe I wasn’t nice enough? I didn’t use any cuss words, so I don’t think it was the latter. There is, of course, the option that what I said was misconstrued as something “not nice.”

Whatever I did wrong (and I am still at a loss as to what I did wrong, or even IF I did anything wrong) I hope had no permanent effects.

Once again — cryptic, eh?

But enough about my non-existent social skills. I can talk about those any day. Today is not just any day; it’s Christmas Eve. It is a time when giving is better than receiving. It is a time when the air is filled with joy. It is the night before little kids (myself included) wake up early in the morning, to find what they desire most underneath the dried limbs of a 7-foot fire hazard.

However, on this most joyous of occasions, let us not forget what Christmas is truly about: the birth of Santa Claus.