He's got the moves, baby.

Check out this dude from the 'People's Court' crowd.

Dude, that sucks.

As some of you may have guessed, my thoughts on Christmas are a little conflicted. It's not like I have a vendetta against it like some people think. I mean, good for them. They managed to co-opt the solstice celebration. I'm not crazy about it, but it's not like I don't put up a tree and a few wreaths.

The thing that drives me nuts is the Santa Claus thing. Namely the notion that I invented Santa Claus to take the spotlight off Jesus during his birthday. Some say his name is "Santa" because it's just "Satan" with the "N" placed in front of the "T". I feel slightly insulted by the notion that I can turn into a serpent on a whim and tempt Eve out of paradise, but that when concocting a campaign to influence every Christian child in the world for hundreds of years I would just spell my name with a few letters switched around.

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Christmas. Yeah, we're going there. I never said this would be a smooth ride. Christmas is of course the celebration of the day Jesus was born and placed in a manger because there was "no room at the inn". Seriously?  Who was running this inn? Messianic prophecy or not, it's a couple who had a baby 5 minutes ago, you can't make some space? Hell wouldn't even pull that shit, and we're talking about a place that dedicates an entire high-rise to gleefully forcing glass shards under the eyelids of false witnesses.

Christmas is also the beginning of Christmastide, the so-called 12 days of Christmas, made famous in the song of the same name. Allow me to take a breath before going into this one. Let's think about this. The first 4 days, the singer's "true love" - and I put that in quotations because I'm not sure I buy that designation for reasons I'll explain - gives her (Yeah, her. I've lived so long I stopped counting my age when we went from Roman to Arabic numerals, and I can tell you this: chicks don't buy guys multiple swans. Sorry boys, ain't gonna happen.) a partridge (with tree), 2 turtle doves, 3 french hens, and 4 colly birds. The song seems to suggest that these things are stacked every day, so on the first day it's a partridge in a pear tree, and on the second day it's 2 turtle doves and a second partridge in a pear tree, and so on. I'm going to assume that's not the case, and that each subsequent mentioning of a gift is a reference to the original, and not a duplicate gift. If I'm wrong, then what I took to be merely absurd is actually whatever is above absurd. Preposterous?

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One of these isn't like the others

Here's a dispatch from the Furry Movement. A portrait of a man or lady dressed as a dog...while holding their dog. What's scary about this isn't the fact that the Furry appears to be on crystal meth, what's scary is that somebody allowed this person into their studio to take this photograph. We believe in Limited Government, but when citizens are allowed to dress like freaking morons and these freaking morons are allowed to own dogs and these morons somehow find a way to use the internet and upload these photos, well, we just think there should be a special Waterboarding and Execution Division of the US Government that would punish people who do these sort of things. It's not adorable, dude.  It's just disturbing and sad and we're going to go to our room and cry now. 

You can see more of this disgustingness here.

Here's Chris Klein audtioning for Mama Mia, a movie only your mother saw. He didn't get the part, but he did get this leaked tape on the internet. YAY FOR US.

What's the deal with these tinfoil robot girls dancing to Daft Punk? Are they sexy? Are they dudes? Are they aliens from outerspace sent here to take all our Nutella and kill us? We have no idea! We're a little scared! But we can't stop watching. And dancing!

If you want your mom to disown you for awhile, I guess this is the way to do it. THIS DUDE IS OUR HERO.

Uhm. Why is the dude in the background saluting that dog? He can't even stick his ass in the air. What a major failure.

When most older people get ready to head into the Great Big Nothing, they usually lose their minds and forget what the color blue looks like. They're rarely possessed by the spirit of a billion rabid dogs who bark like they eat children for breakfast. So yeah, we don't know what's going on here with this dude, but we don't want him within 50 miles of anyone or anything.