Reindeer roasting on an open fire…

From Tena:

Tomorrow night I’m giving a sit down dinner for our closest friends – 4 other couples and one single guy. I’ve been doing this for 22 years. For the first 12 years we had to all sit on the floor in the tiny living room in our old house. Now we all sit at a table, augmented by a folding table from Ducky Bob’s Party Rentals. I worried at first that sitting at a table might change things and make people feel more formal. I’m so stupid sometimes. I know these people better than that. It’s going to be an orgy of food and wine and indiscriminate suggestive laughter and dirty funny talk no matter what the setting.

Somehow I felt this year was really special, so when I went to get the meat, I went all out. I got a prime, boneless Christian baby weighing 8 pounds. You don’t want to know how much I paid. I’ll make a nice wine reduction, with some shallots. The guys always attack that like they’ve never had Christian baby before in their lives. I have to stop them from eating it all – some of the leftovers always go on the Anti-Christmas Tree.

The tree is really a beauty this year – and it by godless better be for the price we paid. They’re double in price here this year. It’s more of that War on Christmas. If you can’t afford a tree this year, you know whom to blame. Bill O’Reilly. He’s got the damn Midnight Clear patrol buying them up and building forts out of them. Oh, and if you put up those white lights, you are really apt to draw sniper fire this year. If you want to avoid getting shot before 2006, you’d be well advised to put up green and red. In a pinch, one or the other will do, but to be on the safe side, you better hide a machine gun behind the holly bushes, or up on the roof.

I have my black silk stocking hung by the chimney with care, and Patrick Fitzgerald is welcome to come fill it personally. But really, as long as Anti Claus brings me an indictment with Rove’s name on it for Anti-Christmas, I’ll be a happy little Anti-Christmas Liberal.

I’m looking forward to the party tomorrow night; I’m feeling quite mellow about the season. I might even call for a cease fire and a prisoner exchange. I’m fucking fed up with these shepherds anyway.