It's 5 o'clock in the morning. And I'm writing this now. Not quite sure why.
The holidays are here, which is somewhat exciting for me, being Jewish. In fact, no it's not really that exciting, because, like it is four out of every five years, Hanukah already happened like three weeks ago. This has completely taken the steam out of my holiday mood. I'm excited that my workload will be lighter for a few weeks, but that's about it. When the holidays just make you relieved about your workload, you know your holiday cheer is in short supply. Not that I'm grinchy or anything, I love Christmas, but in that "true meaning of Christmas" way that I'm not sure a Jew can ever fully understand, I just don't feel it this go round.

I've been thinking of it as a good thing, much like Martha Stewart being in jail, or Michael Jackson only breathing through a facemask. Surreal. Funny. And I like it just fine. It makes me feel okay about myself. You know, whatever's goin on with me, I don't wear gold catcher's equipment while riding a lama in my backyard. And I'm not obsessed with baking crabcakes, or for that matter, presenting them nicely.

Michael Jackson, you have to admit, is doing one great thing four our society these days. Sure he's got the theme parks, and the lamas, and the rampant molestation of young boys for us to deal with, but he is very graciously, with his face, complemented by his inherently odd behavior and penchant for buggery, desensitizing us to seeing weird shit. He is making it hard to be shocked by the whole rest of life. This gift, in these troubled times, (which is a phrase that has become as clich├ęd these days as "orange alert,") but this gift that Crazy Whacked Jacko, as I like to call him, is giving us, is worth it's weight in nose surgery. Because occasionally in life, and especially lately, we have to see some pretty strange things. But pretty much whatever we see, no matter how bad, no matter how scary, is not gonna be as bad as Michael Jackson.

If aliens visited us, with awkward bodies, and foreign clothing, we'd all be like, "Damn. Aliens. That's almost as weird as Michael Jackson."
Alien be like, "True. I mean danglin' a baby off a balcony? That just wacky."

Okay, one attempt at some holiday cheer…How about a rhyme?

Rhyming. Maybe that's the true spirit of the season?
Cause finding words that sound alike is always pleasin'.
You can rhyme things that don't go together, like bacon and treason.
And to make this line rhyme you don't need a reason.
You can put together opposites, like peace and middle east.
And you can also get real fat at your Christmas feast.
Alligator muffins are sitting on a fence.
Rhymes don't even have to make sense.
So for spirit anytime, a monkey barrel of sewage.
If I'm wrong, remember, I'm Jewish.

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