Santa Stabs Jesus in the Leg
Last year, my parents had me vote for a local guy to be on the show Next Food Network Star. His name was Hans, and he got enough votes to be on the show. Aaron and I watched the show, and he actually turned out to be our pick to win. Unfortunately, he didn’t win, but it may have turned out to be the best thing, because soon thereafter, he became very sick with cancer. Now, he has a blog on Live Journal, and he’s documenting his experience with severe illness, and he’s leaving nothing out. It’s a great blog to read, and even though it’s not always good news, it’s always good to read. I had actually just finished reading his latest this morning when I got an e-mail from my mother with an excerpt from a comment on his blog regarding the whole "Merry Christmas" controversy from this year. It’s a must read:
Can’t believe Christmas is over already. Good thing war didn’t break out on the season’s greeting/happy holidays/merry christmas pc front…I found it deeply disturbing that controversy and boycotting came about over that. Hey, if the cashier at WalMart who makes little over minimum wage, still has enough mental stability in her, after the 37th price look up, the 54th refund, the 82nd child crying, the 17 yelling, micromanaging supervisors, the $94 the government took out of her 68 hour, $233 check, and the loser boyfriend who called 4 times in the past 45 minutes to tell her to remember the cigs before she gets off work, to still be greeting at all by the time I get there, she can tell me anything she wants, even if it’s that she hopes Santa stabs Jesus in the leg with a broken bottle of champagne because he took a piss on Rudolf’s list of New Year resolutions (of course his first is to stop saying "Merry Christmas", 2nd is to stop snorting coke because it’s turning his nose red…), so not to be expecting Jesus or Santa on the 25th because one will be in the hospital getting his leg cast, the other will be hiding from God’s wrath ("oh shit Prancer, we gotta get outta here, I just stabbed Jesus, God’s gonna be pissed!"). I’d say "Thanks, Happy Weary Willie Day!", and walk away thinking…"she was sooo friendly…they should give her a raise…"
