I am still filled with bread pudding. It is seeping out of my pores in a trickle of rum soaked raisins and doughy chunks. Yes Virginia, there is a Mrs. Claus (me), and she's lactating eggnog all over the place. I'm sure that I will be a polar pariah if this keeps up. I'll never get to second base with Blitzen now, and I'm sure "Rudolph the red nosed coke-fiend" will disinvite me from his big blow party.
For anyone who cares, I spent Christmas with the usuals (my red leather clad grandma and tongue-pierced sister) as well as my two adopted Russian cousins. The whole time the lil' Ruskies played with noisy electronic devices while asking me what the colloquial expression"giving dome," means. Sheesh!