Cool!
Are you really real Santa? ???
Brian
Brian, I was deeply touched by the frankness and openness of your question so I thought I would answer your query here on CigarPass.
Yes, Brian, I am Santa Claus. ??? Only I'm not an actual person that you can see or touch or make obscene gestures at when I cut you off on the freeway. I am more like a symbol -- a representation of the Christmas spirit.
Remember when you were a small child and your mother would drag you to see Santa at the local mall ("local" meaning "in Riverside County somewhere"), even though you hated me because I looked like a big, fat candy cane and always smelled of stale beer and cigarettes? And remember how you would always cry and wet your pants when she sat you on my lap? Do you think that if Santa Claus were a real person, he would have time to go to the mall and have little brats urinate on him, particularly during the Christmas season, when he would undoubtedly be at his busiest? Of course not, don't be an idiot. That obviously was not the real Santa Claus because Santa Claus, as I said, is just an image.
You know how, starting December 1, every television station in the country shows "It's A Wonderful Life" fifty times, and how every station advertises the heck out of it, as though they had the exclusive broadcasting rights to it and as if it were possible to turn on the TV at any time of the day or night and not see "It's A Wonderful Life" somewhere? And you know how your mother always felt compelled to watch it every single time it was on? That's Santa Claus.
You know how your mother always took you Christmas shopping to Kmart, or a place of equivalent class, and how you would drive around the parking lot for hours and hours searching for a parking space closer than the McDonald's four blocks down the street, since she knew that she'd be buying approximately four thousand dollars worth of stuff and if you tried to carry it that far, your mother would probably lapse into a coma and you would probably just regress to the fetal stage, and she finally gave up and sneaked into a handicapped zone? That is Santa Claus.
You know how your brothers and sisters always got up on Christmas morning at an hour that is only technically considered morning and tear into their loot and get into fights over who gets to play with what because of course no one wants to play with his own stuff, and how everything gets broken even before your parents have even gotten out of bed? That is Santa Claus, too.
So you see, Brian, there really is a Santa Claus. Everything associated with Christmas -- Christmas cards, family get-togethers, large mobs of Christmas carolers singing ridiculous songs, each person in a different key -- all of these things are Santa Claus.
I would not be surprised, therefore, if you no longer want to leave out a plate of milk and cookies for me. I probably would not eat them unless they were cholesterol-free anyway.
Merry Christmas.
Sheesh!!
How did you fill out the suit?
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Beer, lots and lots of beer.
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ummm....you know I'm kidding, right? I really am the real Santa. HO HO HO??
:thumbs: 
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