***Crabby is back with another hilarious rehash.
Gasmii, like a lot of us who grew up in the 1970s, I LOVED Christmastime when the networks would roll out the claymation. And these were the times before VCRs and DVRs, so you either stayed glued to the TV so as not to miss the shows or it was see you next year, sucker. Luckily, being glued to the TV for me was not a problem.
My all-time fav is the Rudolph claymation but a close second is A Year Without a Santa Claus, mostly because of Heat Miser and Snow Miser. However, as I’ve gotten older, watching Rudolph just makes me see it was a metaphor for homosexuality and A Year Without a Santa Claus is a true testament to how lazy whitey has become. The conflict of the story? Santa has decided to take a vacation day. On December 25th. Yes, this whole hour is devoted to Santa taking off the ONE GODDAMN day he has to work a year. Yeah, I didn’t know the Santa job was a government one either.
Well, I’m sore and tired so I should totally not work this year.
Let’s begin with sassy Mrs. Claus telling us that this all happened before we were born which just makes me feel old. Santa gets out of bed one morning, puts on one boot, then the other, which is going to make it difficult to actually get dressed, and he whines that he’s tired. He complains that wrapping presents and sharpening skates has made him “weary.” So either Santa is lying because we all know the elves do all the grunt work, or he’s a terrible delegator and mirco-manager.
“Crick in my back, cold in my nose, aches in my fingers and toes,” he raps. Yeah, if you are in that much pain, how about moving to Boca or Phoenix? Mrs. Claus sends for the doctor and hopefully he’s doctor feel-good. Nope, but he must be Dr. Jew because he kvetches that Santa probably never got over the pneumonia he got last year gallivanting all over the earth in that open sleigh delivering presents to people who don’t give a shit anymore. Dude, deliver me a Lexus with that big red bow and I’ll care. That will make up for the Ozzy Osbourne reality show t-shirt I got a few years ago.
Dr. Jew, this mutton medicine sucks.
“Wouldn’t surprise me none if nobody believes in you anymore!” the doctor says. Then he leaves and says, “Merry Christmas!” Muslim!
Santa hides under his covers like a Cymbalta commercial actor and says he’s really not up to snuff. “Maybe I’m due for a holiday,” he says. Yeah, that’s like the quarterback taking off the Superbowl cause he’s tired, and at least he has a backup. Who’s Santa’s backup?
I feel like I need to be wound up to get through my day. Which is weird, since I’m claymation and not a wind-up toy.
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11 Comments
I’m only on the first page and I cannot stop laughing. And if you notice Santa fat lazy ass did the same thing in Rudolph; he was stirring up the Rudolph is not good enough shit pot and I did not notice until I was older. I was mad at Santa for years after that and started a rumor in my book club that he was having an affair with Mother Nature and that Heat and Snow Miser was his bastard children.
I don’t think it’s funny to use a learning disabled elf as comic relief.
I don’t know about this one. Heat Miser and Snow Miser surely rock, but I get bored with the rest of it. These were kind of like Empire, A New Hope, and Jedi. Rudolph is great. Year Without Santa is meh, and Rudolph’s Shiny New Year is best watched while your schwasted.
For my money, it’s either the Grinch, or Santa Claus is Coming to Town. When those reindeer fly out of Bergermeister Meisterberger’s prison, I start hooting and hollering like when a hooker takes off her top.
This was hilarious Dear Crabby. It was great entertainment while I waited for my date to get to dinner.
Fortunately I already knew the Santa was a lazy bastard, so this movie just reassured what I already knew. My Mother never let me and my brother believe in Santa because she didn’t want “some other man” taking credit for all of my father’s hard work.
Santa’s like that guy at work who when complimented on a job he didn’t do says “thanks, it was nothing”. You’re damn right it was nothing…because you weren’t here until 10 o’clock putting it together!!!
“Santa hides under his covers like a Cymbalta commercial actor”
Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!
Thanks Dear Crabby!! I watched this movie a few days ago whilst filling out Christmas cards…I’ve had that damn Heat/Snow Miser songs stuck in my head for 3 days!!! And Santa is a lazy f-er! Happy Holidays y’all!
Mother Nature is totally hitting the sauce hard in this movie! If you watch closely, she gets her sons mixed up when she tells them to do what Mrs. Claus wants! And everyone just pretends it didn’t happen, because, with global warming, what do you expect?
Only on page one, but I’m convinced it’s because the doctor didn’t keep up with his literature. Isn’t that about the year they “discovered” (da da dum dun) male menopause. Yeah, that’s it. All he needed to do was jack him up with some hormones.
I just took a break from ironing my towels to say thanks for the awesome recap.
Thanks for the trip down Memory Lane, Crabby. I haven’t seen this one in years, but I always loved the Misers. I remember that one year, after having studied Genesis in a pompous highschool theology class attended exclusively by obnoxious teenage atheists like myself, I started thinking that this story may be loosely based on the tale of Sodom & Gemorrah. Jingle and Jangle being the investigatory angels to Ignatius’s role as Lot the righteous man who protects the angels from gang grape while offering up his daughters. Or you know, helps them free their reindeer from the dogcatcher. While Santa is the vengeful God who destroys all life on the Jordan river plain rather than fix a problem of his own making. Or you know, goes on strike against the children of the world because he feels underappreciated. What an asshole.
Dear Crabby – OMG!!!!! Where to begin? You captured this perfectly – my brother and I used to wonder about the peeing thing as well. All we could come up with was tiny ice cubes for Snow Miser; for Heat Miser – we had nothing. I guess we figured any liquid would evaporate in that much heat. As for the song, my brother and I memorized it – we still sing it to each other today and we’re in our early 50′s! (Ok, we’re weird). As for Mrs. Claus ironing towels, well, maybe she’s from the \Old Country\. When my grandmother came to visit, she would iron towels and sheets. When my dad lived at home, she used to iron his underwear! I shit you not. She was born in Paris, France in 1899, so we figured maybe that had something to do with it!
As someone from Chicago who has also wondered about the bathroom habits of claymation/cartoons. this recap was in a word PERFECT!