You can't hide it from me, minions; you miss Christmas. The lights, the food, the days off, maybe not so much the music, but definitely the gifts - am I right?
Well never fear! Because for one day only, I'm bringing Sexy Santa back.
Rudolf the Red KNOWS a nose wang, dear.
(And now you can't unsee it, either.)
Kathy wanted her cake to read, "We love your face." When asked about the decorations, she replied:
AND SO THEY DID.
Of course, some people celebrate a special birth on Christmas:
Yes, Happy Birthday, Jissas.
(I read that out loud and made myself laugh so hard I think I peed a little. And that mental image is my belated Christmas gift to you.)
Now, I know what you're thinking. "John," you're thinking, because you've wrongly assumed only John would joke about peeing himself on this blog, but HA FOOLED YOU, this is Jen, so there - "John," you're thinking, "if you love Christmas so much, why don't you...
"... put this cake out of its misery?"
Good question, minions. Good question.
And finally, let me end with a new-but-belated holiday tradition:
Kissing under the Missile Toe.
Or... Mrissle Foe?
Eh, you know, I'd rather imagine a rocket-propelled foot finger, so let's go with that.
Thanks to Ramzy, Kathy K., Summer G., Candace C., & C. B., who bets this new tradition is really going to take off.
Update from john (the hubby of Jen): Look what I found!!!