"Sure, I enjoy contortion...

...the kind that is graceful and beautiful*
and not to be confused in any way with this Garden of Eden variety
worming its way straight toward the tender, yummy children,"
I whispered sideways, eyes trained on the alien spawn,
as I instinctively began feeling around
for the cold steel of the loaded shotgun behind me...

The children did the right thing by remaining very, very still.
Personally, I'd have fainted and urinated on myself in that order.

But if you make it to the end, you'll notice that even Santa
looks to the camera for some sort of explanation or direction or whipcrack.

S-S...Santa?

I can't say for sure, and we don't know yet,
but Santa may have peed on himself, too.


(Santa tinkle? Has this blog officially taken a turn for the worse?)


*Also, not to be confused with this type of contortion:
where sitting on your own face in red pleather
not only suits you but also the middle-aged paperboy
enjoying the warm glow of the Dell monitor too, too immensely.


ps: the other day, I found one of these
crawling out of my shower drain and squashed it.