Christmas Lives On In Our Hearts & Santa's Wang Nose

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.

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Update from john (the hubby of Jen): Look what I found!!!

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And from my other blog, Epbot:

I Composed The Venue, The Menu, The Seating...

Admit it, minions: every time I show you a falling-over, heinously bad wedding wreck, you judge the couple a little. You think they didn't pay enough. You think they tried to get the moon for a plumber's crack budget. I get it.

But what if I told you this is the venue for today's wreck:

Pretty, right? And probably worth a pretty penny?

Note how this looks nothing like Uncle Earl's backyard, or the back room of a dilapidated lodge.
This, my friends, is what we southerners call a classy joint.

And this is the wedding cake they served in that classy joint:

Take a minute. Soak it in.

Join me in trying to decipher the faded poo swirly things on the bottom edge, or that spiky bowl thing on top.

And regarding the pretty silver stand it's on: that's not so much lipstick on a pig as it is glass slippers on a Horta. Which is frickin' hilarious if you're an old school Star Trek fan. (The rest of you, just imagine your pile of dirty laundry... made out of pizza.)

(Or hey, just imagine this cake. They're about equal.)

Thanks to Jennifer S. for the... PAIN!!!

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P.S. What's this, two Star Trek jokes in one week?? This calls for a celebration! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Star Trek Spock Socks

Awww yeeeeah.

It's the only logical choice, really.

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And from my other blog, Epbot: