Dear Santa
by Gary Zeidner
Hey Santa, how’s it hangin’? High and tight I’d guess given the average temperature at your address. I know it’s getting on crunch time for you, so I hope this Xmas plea finds you as jolly as ever despite the unique pressure you find yourself under this time of year.
Before I get to the “Gimmee, gimee!” part, let me first give you a super-sized “Thank you!” for the Phillies’ World Series win this year. I’ve been asking for one of the Philly teams to break that damned curse for years now, and if it couldn’t be the Eagles then the Phillies will do just fine.
Speaking of the Eagles, all I want for Xmas this year is for the Birds to win the Super Bowl. Of course, first they have to make it into the postseason, but I consider that a lesser included Xmas wish subsumed in whole into the larger Super Bowl victory request.
I know the Birds haven’t been 100 percent nice this year. Andy’s play calling has, at times, resembled something dreamed up by that idiot abominable snowman. Donnie has put more balls in the dirt than the bulls at the National Nude Rodeo. The team as a whole has failed to evince the football equivalent of Xmas cheer on numerous occasions, not the least of which being that lamer-than-Tiny-Tim tie with the Bungles.
To be fair, though, you have to admit that no Eagle has shot himself in the leg, beat up the bouncer at a strip club or pitted dogs against each other in blood sport for profit this year, so I’d say on balance the Birds qualify as Nice rather than Naughty. After all, Andy is the winningest (that’s for you, Sergei) coach in Eagles history and B-Dawk now has the longest tenure in Eagles history measured by games played. Green Akers even made a 50-plus-yard field goal the other day!
Besides, who among us isn’t at least a little naughty each year? Thanks to the wonder that is the Internet, even I heard about that nasty little paternity suit the uber-hot redheaded elf in the Mail Room hit you with back in June.
So do me a solid and help my beloved, oft-beleaguered Birds get into the post-season and win their first Super Bowl this year. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, it doesn’t require wrapping paper and it won’t add an ounce of weight to your sleigh. There could even be some special cookies and a nice tall glass of bourbon in it for you when you come down my chimney this year.
Thanks (the other) Big Red. E-A-G-L-E-S . . . EAGLES!!!
P.S.: If you can’t come through on the Birds Super Bowl win, could you at least get me Megan Fox’s cell phone number? She’s like Angelina Jolie minus the extra years, the Colors of Benetton kids, the annoying humanitarian causes and the husband, and like Angelina, she seems like she would gleefully fulfill every one of my darkest, dirtiest, most unwholesome fantasies. Sweet.
Ding!
Because it just ain’t the holidays until the fries are done, I give you all the best clip of a retarded kid singing a fast food-related song to a classic holiday tune . . . ever!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFQyib5ZQZY
Happy Holidays, duhrrr!
DVDelicious
I used to watch The X-Files pretty regularly when it was on TV. It wasn’t until Mulder was getting ready to leave the show that I gave it up. I checked out the first X-Files movie, so I felt somewhat compelled to give The X-Files: I Want to Believe a spin.
Well, the truth is out there, and the truth is that this movie was utterly eXtraneous. It not only adds nothing to the X-Files mythos, it gallivants around with zero regard for anything that came before it. I kid you not. There’s actually a scene between Mulder and Scully that is so bizarre, so completely out of sync with not only the X-Files universe but with this particular movie, that I had to rewind and check the counter to make sure my DVD hadn’t skipped. Then, once I’d determined that the scene was, in fact, where the director had intended it to be, I sat there waiting for some sort of explanation. Was it a dream sequence? Was it a flashback or flashforward? Was Mulder or Scully — or both — under alien control or a clone or a ghost or . . . something? How else could I explain the fact that all of a sudden with no preamble or explanation of any kind, Mulder and Scully are in bed together and fucking like they’ve been doing it for years? And they didn’t even give us any of Gillian Anderson naked. Boooooo!
On the other end of the spectrum from The Dreck Files, we have The Dark Knight. I enjoyed this latest incarnation of the Caped Crusader when I saw it in the theatre, but my expectations were so high that I wasn’t blown away. I re-watched it last week, and while I think the story would have benefitted from some reengineering, I was absolutely floored by Heath Ledger’s Joker.
When I first learned that Ledger had been cast as the Joker, I was less than thrilled. After A Knight’s Tale, The Order and The Brothers Grimm, I would have laid long odds against Ledger doing anything but crashing and burning in the role. Oh, how wrong I was and how glad of it, too. Ledger’s performance as the Joker will be remembered for many a year as one of the best in the Oughts . . . if not longer, and it is reason enough to see this flick even if you could care less about Batman or action movies in general.
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