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Title:Real Men/Women of Genius #34
Date:Thursday December 24th, 2009
Author:Troubadour
[Default Article Image][Hey, THIS ain't happenin' tomorrow. So gotta be today, if at all this week. Merry Christmas, allah yous gah-roovy fit 'n' fab little (or big) Listers and Listerveens!]

Bud Light presents...


REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Real men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Santa Claus Hat-Wearing Running Race Runner.

{Mis-ter "Is my cute red-and-white cap with the puff-ball reeeally fool-ing you today?"}

Come on. You have to be kidding us. You honestly expect us, the hardcore ground-pounders totally focused on the next 30 feet in front of us, to be distracted---and somehow therefore "merry" and cheerful---just 'cuz YOUR fascist bald noggin' has some stupid whacky hat on it?

{"Ho-ho-ho! Mer-rrrrrrr-ry Chris-muss ev-er-y bod-yyyyyy!"}

You're pretending you're from the North Pole? You're secretly wishing all the little boys and girls will meet you at the aid stations and want to climb up on your lap? Hey, pal. We're all ADULTS here. We've known your ass ain't real since about the second grade. You should show up dressed like a Chippendale instead.

{Puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeease don't take your cos-tume off!!}

Besides, you're too skinny. And weigh... too... slow. The pillows stuffed inside your goofy red-and-white totally sissified velvet jacket don't fool anybody. And besides, this is single-track trail. You are in my way! So MOVE IT, pops. Take those stupid "jingle bells" tied to your Asics into the mud on the side and LET ME PASS!

{"Why are all these run-ners hav-ing such bad at-ti-tudes?"}

"Merry Xmas," you say? We'll give you "X." I've got a shot here at an age-group trophy, and your pathetic demeanor and costume are slowing the whole pack down. Take your "good cheer" to the tavern. You belong out here in this mega-importance footrace like motor oil belongs in eggnog.

{"Heyyyyyyyyyy watch those el-bows, budddddd-dy!"}

So crack open an environmentally-chilled outdoors can of Bud Light when you f-i-n-a-l-l-y get to the finish line, O Jolly Old Saint Nick, because you deserve some kind of sixth-place prize in the costume contest at least. And we applaud your efforts like we would otherwise clap for a television commercial. But mostly? We just thank the Kid in the Crèche that it ain't Easter.

{Mis-ter Santa Claus Hat-with-the-puff-ball-Wearing Running Race Runner!}

Bud Light beer: we don't care where it's made; we just dig their commercials.



( O_O )



Yours troubly,

Rich Limacher
TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net

Yankee Folly of the Day:
Even as a kid I was afraid of sitting on some fake Santa's lap. I somehow knew better than ask such a chump for a play workbench, with all those colored little pegs which are supposed to be pounded inside all those round little holes. Your Memories May Vary, of course.
;-)
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