It's been a while. I know. My asana practice has been scaled back to an all time low so my recent inspiration has been heavy on sarcasm but light on yoga (pun intended). It was partly because of the many piles of fecal matter dropped in the yoga community in the last few years. Google these words to find out more: john friend bikram lululemon yoga scandal
But don't worry, I plan on making a comeback in the yoga world next year. Yeah, bitches!
Anyway, this blog is brought to you by my latest Facebook profile photo:
Not sure how it happened but it did: I update my Facebook profile photo on an almost-daily basis. It is meant to be funny and provoke conversations at the same time. If you are one of the three followers of my blog, you will have seen my collections of Jesus and bacon art photos.
Fast forward a little...
There are many reasons why I am not a fan of this thing called "Christmas".
Obviously it's not really about the birth of Jesus. Trust me, Jesus and I have talked about it many times and we couldn't figure out the exact date of his birthday, particularly because we're not sure if we count twelve days of Christmas as twelve or as one. I mean, on the eighth day we have eight maids a-milking. Eight! That's sixteen breasts, seventeen if one of them came from Chernobyl. Goodness gracious me, that's a lot of breast milk! Oh, I can't wait for the eleventh day of Christmas while eleven pipers a-piping... that's gonna be one hell of an orgy.
And what really is a partridge in a pear tree? Is that some kind of kinky sex thing? I mean, a whole bird and not just the feather? Don't even get me started on what I'd do to a pear tree with a lot of breast milk...
So strike out December 25.
Perhaps the C in Christmas stands for Santa Claus? Let's see what the almighty Wikipedia says about the jolly fat man in a red suit:
Santa Claus, also known as Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle and simply "Santa", is a mythical figure with legendary, historical and folkloric origins who, in many Western cultures, is said to bring gifts to the homes of the good children on December 24, the night before Christmas.
So the symbol of Christmas is "a mythical figure with legendary, historical and folkloric origins" and his name isn't Jesus? This can't be right!
I get even more confused when I go to the malls around this time of the year. As an aside, what is with the moms with strollers acting like they own the mall? These mothers are armed with strollers and they are dangerous. I had a life threatening encounter with one of those recently. She ran over my foot with her double-decker stroller, which was empty except her handbag because her screaming kid wasn't sitting in it. We exchanged looks. She expected me to apologize. I punched her screaming little stinker... not really. I kept walking while she proceeded to the station to have the photo of her screaming little stinker taken with Santa Claus.
I just don't get it. What does a fat man in a red suit have to do with Christmas? And how does he appear in all the shopping malls all over while he's drunk? Come on, he's gotta be drunk, or how else could he deal with all the screaming little stinkers and their mothers who are armed with strollers?
While I was trying to escape the mall and then the parking lot, I didn't see Santa's carriage or the reindeers. I however had an epiphany... well, three actually. First, moms with strollers are dangerous and cannot be reasoned with. Second, rearrange SANTA and you get SATAN. How auspicious. Third...
The C in Christmas stands for a naughty C-word. It is taboo yet alluring. It brings sinful pleasure to millions.
Consumerism.
It all makes sense now. Santa is the manifestation of the superpower of consumerism. This is how Santa can appear in malls all over the place and can deal with screaming kids and their dangerous mothers. It explains how his fat ass can get down a chimney or get into houses with no chimney at all. In fact, Santa comes more than once a year. Wait till February, Santa will come back as all kinds of pink and red heart-shaped things, chocolate and roses. Then he'll be back a couple months later as bunnies, eggs and more chocolate. Before you know it, people are a lighting up that pear tree with a partridge again.
I should've been clued in on the fifth day of Christmas when my true love gave me five golden rings.
Fast forward...
I had stopped buying Christmas "gifts" for my friends (all two of them) a few years ago. They don't need any product of Santa from me. Instead I sponsor a couple of people at the homeless shelter. You may want to consider the same.
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