and Stealing Baby Jesus
This year people already have horrendously tacky inflatables bobbing in the wind in their yards that kids love with all their colorful outdoor lighting-you have seen them if you drive around any suburban neighborhood in America- large blown up Frosties or Santas, sometimes with a full cadre of inflatable reindeer and sleigh and huge inflatable snow flakes hanging from gutters. While not exactly Martha Stewart tasteful against the colonial house backdrops they have a certain kitche appeal. Entire neighborhoods in Richmond Virginia vie for tackiest house in a contest called Tackiest Christmas Lights House contest. It must be bonus time for Pepco because people must pay an extra mortgage for their lighting bills in December.
This year it is all the rage for night pranksters to go around knifing the inflatables so they all deflate. One guy called in a radio show bragging he decapitated a bobbing Santa in the breeze. A proud papa who inflated his glow in the dark inflatables wakes up the next day, gets his coffee and finds his Frostie folded in on himself in a heap in the front yard. Ha Ha Ha Ha. LoL. Grab My Gut Funny. Are you done ? That sinking feeling of -I just wasted $400. on a pile of plastic junk hits him. A guy on the radio remarked (while laughing uncontrollably at the phenomenon because he thinks them horrendously tacky to begin with-which they are but it is holiday fun for the kiddies) that this is today's equivalent of last years' holiday pranksters stealing the baby Jesus out of town Nativity scenes.
Stealing Baby Jesus. I recall one church almost snickering that in a Nativity procession in which a church Nativity scene was blessed they forgot the baby Jesus. Ha Ha Ha Ha. Not really.
The ENTIRE message of the Season is a BABY.
The ENTIRE raison d'etre is an infant, born basically on the run in make-shift housing, bunking down with whatever needed to share it, like an Ox and Ass, maybe a few cows-who knows. With a mother grabbing whatever is around to keep her baby warm, folded on some hay in a feeding trough.
If you lose the Baby you have lost the message completely. It's worse than slashing Santa's throat.
This year people already have horrendously tacky inflatables bobbing in the wind in their yards that kids love with all their colorful outdoor lighting-you have seen them if you drive around any suburban neighborhood in America- large blown up Frosties or Santas, sometimes with a full cadre of inflatable reindeer and sleigh and huge inflatable snow flakes hanging from gutters. While not exactly Martha Stewart tasteful against the colonial house backdrops they have a certain kitche appeal. Entire neighborhoods in Richmond Virginia vie for tackiest house in a contest called Tackiest Christmas Lights House contest. It must be bonus time for Pepco because people must pay an extra mortgage for their lighting bills in December.
This year it is all the rage for night pranksters to go around knifing the inflatables so they all deflate. One guy called in a radio show bragging he decapitated a bobbing Santa in the breeze. A proud papa who inflated his glow in the dark inflatables wakes up the next day, gets his coffee and finds his Frostie folded in on himself in a heap in the front yard. Ha Ha Ha Ha. LoL. Grab My Gut Funny. Are you done ? That sinking feeling of -I just wasted $400. on a pile of plastic junk hits him. A guy on the radio remarked (while laughing uncontrollably at the phenomenon because he thinks them horrendously tacky to begin with-which they are but it is holiday fun for the kiddies) that this is today's equivalent of last years' holiday pranksters stealing the baby Jesus out of town Nativity scenes.
Stealing Baby Jesus. I recall one church almost snickering that in a Nativity procession in which a church Nativity scene was blessed they forgot the baby Jesus. Ha Ha Ha Ha. Not really.
The ENTIRE message of the Season is a BABY.
The ENTIRE raison d'etre is an infant, born basically on the run in make-shift housing, bunking down with whatever needed to share it, like an Ox and Ass, maybe a few cows-who knows. With a mother grabbing whatever is around to keep her baby warm, folded on some hay in a feeding trough.
If you lose the Baby you have lost the message completely. It's worse than slashing Santa's throat.
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