Santa is a Booty Bitch

In the spirit of the holidays, the Shelton Brothers is being denied permission to sell Santa's Butt Winter Ale because they are depicting an image of Santa enjoying a frosty mug. They have taken their case to federal court. Last year, they had trouble selling Seriously Bad Elf Ale, so I suppose there is precedent.

NEWS FLASH: Santa is a fictional character and beer is not allowed to be sold or consumed by minors. Let's get a life and, while you're at it, a sense of humor.

I know what you're asking. "What does a semi-hip, moderately intelligent individual do on a Saturday night?" Other than blogging, and wishing that he was at an office Christmas party, of course...He watches TV - sometimes in rapt amazement of what he is seeing. For instance:

Over on the Home Shopping Channel, there's superstar game show host Chuck Woolery hawking hats with little LED lights in them. "They're perfect stocking stuffers!" he proclaims, and the host cheerily agrees. Could you even get a hat in a stocking? I'm inclined to agree with the late Mitch Hedberg, who said that "a severed foot is the ultimate stocking stuffer."

The Game Show Network is running old Who Wants to be a Millionaire shows. I can't believe I used to be completely addicted to that show. The first step toward recovery is admission of a problem. I had a problem.

On Versus, a couple of guys are punching and kneeing each other in the groinal area. Not family men, I presume.

There's the Morris Cerullo Help Line, on one of those religious stations. Some guy presumably regained his "power of sight" through prayer. OK, good for him, but if that's the case, then I guess every other blind person who ever prayed for their sight must be a heathen, because his God listened. Meanwhile, Morris is standing in front of a bank of telephones, which, I presume are equipped to take your donations. After all, we can't expect the guy to pray for you without compensation. Prayer is hard work.

Morris has a Help Line Orchestra (why, I have no idea) and special guests like Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr - as though anyone younger than Santa knows who they are. He says, "It doesn't matter what religion you are." Wow. What a perfect world, Morris. I wanted to call and tell him I was praying for a really powerful orgasm, but I wasn't all that anxious to poke fun at the "Most Inspirational 60 Minutes on Television". Especially since I was inspired to turn off the TV by watching Morris Cerullo - so I guess he is right.

Then, there's "Elf" over on the USA Network, where Will Ferrell is approaching the role of one of Santa's elves with all the reverence of a religious experience, while he sees fit to mock real-life NASCAR drivers in his Ricky Bobby movie. He's a "cotton-headed nitty-muggins". Oy. Cash the check, Will. At least he isn't a Booty Buttcrack.

J. Peterman is hosting Family Fued now. They do a lot of clapping on that show. He's doing better than Kramer, so maybe I shouldn't mock.

Then, I got started watching "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" on Turner Movie Classics, and couldn't stop. It's one of these Frank Capra fairy tales about a doofus who gets appointed U.S. Senator from "home state", goes all wild-eyed to Washington thinking he will make the world a better place. Doofus gets mixed up in a corruption scandal and holds the federal government hostage for a couple of days filibustering while he waits for a bunch of kids to deliver newspapers. In the meantime, his rival Senator has an attack of conscience and confesses to the world that he is a crook and should not be a Senator.

The world has surely changed since 1939 - if it was ever that way to begin with.

Believe it or not, one of our local weather people is named Amy Freeze. Really. I'm not sure if that's her given name or her married name, but it's pretty neat. She has a real B.S. in Meteororolgy, but I suppose your career path is mapped out ahead of time if your name is Freeze. You're either going to be a meteorologist or Batman's arch enemy.

They like to use the word "snow", and she's telling us that there's the possibility of snow for Sunday night. It's good for ratings, and even if it's just flurries, they say snow. I could live without it ... Which reminds me.

I'm going back over to Morris and ask him to pray.