***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.