I’d cap Frosty’s ass. My sons know this, as I have encouraged them with words like “Cap Frosty’s ass!” It’s not that I have anything against Frosty, in particular, or his ass. I’m sure he’s a fine guy, what with his corncob pipe and carrot nose. What I don’t like is commercialized cuteness. Especially the ones that require generators, like the inflatable Frosties, Santas, Easter Bunnies, or Great Pumpkins. Even if I drove by an inflatable Bambi, I’d instruct my boys to shoot to kill. Even Thumper – the inflatable one – would be advised to wear a vest. So when my sons and I are out driving during the Holiday season, I've given them this wise holiday advice.
Even worse, if that is possible, are the posters of Eagles soaring on the wing, with the caption reading "Unless you soar with the Eagles you’ll sit with the Turkeys." I’m not sure whether I’ll agree or disagree with this, as right now I am sitting with the (Wild) Turkey. Who seems quite friendly, and we have been having quite the revealing conversation (you won’t BELIEVE what he has done, the rake). Ben Franklin certainly liked turkeys, and for a guy who was early to bed and early to rise, and spoke French, and had badder mullet than MacGyver (compare their pictures below!), and still discovered electricity and petticoats, and said things like “We shall all hang together, or we shall all hang separately” he seemed to do OK. Well. I’m on his side, in general. As for the Eagles…well Don Henley Must Die. That’s not my opinion, that’s a song.