Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat. We all know you call your mother-in-law the goose. You’re not fooling anyone. Christmas has come once again and halls of your house or whose ever place your celebrating at this year are as clogged as the arteries in Grandpa’s heart. A mist the hustle and bustle of holiday cheer, wedged between the turkey, stuffing, cranberries, mashed potatoes, corn, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, brown and serve rolls, alternate stuffing, ham, carrots, all seventeen assortments of pie and cookies that outweigh your Aunt Gladys, is the most popular thought ringing thru the holiday season and that, of course, is the perfect murder. Being in close company with so many of our loved ones makes us realize how much we love them to death and would probably love them a little easier if they were in fact dead. The only problem is that pesky government of ours which frowns on murder, excepting if you are temporarily insane which as far as I can tell only implies that you got really, really, really upset (mad) and lost control (mad) and couldn’t help yourself (blatant copout). If only the government could spend the holidays at your place. They would reinstitute public executions in order to elevate your holiday woes. I mean if they spent one hour smelling Cousin Frankie’s farts or listening to the never humors jokes of you Uncle Billy, who will be your Aunt Billie as soon as he/she gets the surgery. Christmas is truly the most wonderful time of the year because once its over you no longer have to see any of your relatives for an entire year. No fake hugs from the cousin you had a crush on growing up (you are honestly pretty sick). No cheek pinching from people who have to rest after pinching your cheek to get their strength back (To fight off death). No barrage of food that you would never eat unless your Aunt Ester would take offense that no one ate it (why does she have to always watch you eat it. Not even the dog will willingly eat this… whatever it is.) No presents of clothing that you will have to wash 30 to 40 times next year on the 20th to make it look like you wore it out in the past year. Finally after spending any amount of time pondering it you realize that there is no possible way to kill off your family and get away with it. Killing one of them just allows another more “face” time and that leaves little hope. Then faced with the dismal realization of your plight you have but one reasonable recourse: Alcohol. This Christmas brought to you in its entirety by Jim Bean, who reminds you that the more time you spend with your family the better a friend old Jim becomes.

Today I installed a new garage door opener that my dad got my mom for Christmas. There are few things in this world that so thoroughly convince me that I have the IQ of a pack mule. I figured on spending an hour on installing it and after 4 hours of work I decided I needed a break. The garage door opened when I started. Now the lights just flash and it makes a whining noise and spits bolts at me. There are so many extra parts lying around the floor of the garage if the thing ever does work my mother will come out to four flat tires. I am having a priest come by to perform an exorcism just in case. I really have no idea what is going on to be completely honest and just figure I will cover all the basics. I am sending out a prayer request thru out churches prayer chain. I can’t think of anything else that would help. Can you?

My parents bought this book for me back when I was dating. I of course did what anyone of you would do. I shoved it on a shelf and forgot about it. This book was clearly too late. I had found her and we spent almost every waking hour together. I had already figured it out. But for those of you who currently know me know that I am single and so apparently I was wrong about that girl I was with. So, since I have some free time now, I busted out that book and read up and do you know what I found. Nothing! No name, no address, no telephone number or email address, not even a vague description. What a total crock! This book clearly claims on the front that it holds the key to finding the love of my life. It’s printed it big friggin’ letters on the front of it. Not only does it not tell me who she is but it fails to tell me what she has got. How am I going to know what I need to buy so that we can live together and have everything we need? Now I am going to buy up the exact same things that she has and we will have two of everything. Thanks for nothing book. Although to be fair it did give me a hankering for ice cream… maybe ice cream is the love of my life and the book helped me to find it. Nah. It is just bookshelf filler.

I feel sorry for Nick Lachey. There I said it. When he married Jessica Simpson he expected to get a wife with an incredible body and unbelievable procreation experiences. And that, my friends is exactly what he got; nothing less but certainly nothing more. No pleasant surprises such as a digestible conversation or witty sense of the obvious. Instead he got “is this chicken or tuna.” When he married Jessica I am sure he said to himself, “she’ll get smarter. It just has to happen.” Wrongo bucko! She is as dumb as the concept that the physical aspects will make the mental torment all worth while. But there is a silver lining. He has the knowledge now to make better decisions. And in that is where my multimillion dollar idea came from. Nick could tour the country giving advice to men about to marry woman with the IQs of Lamp shades on a TV show I have lovingly titled “Nick Lachey’s Shallow Marriage hour”. It has the two main things that America loves; hot women who will easily be convinced to get into a bathing suit for a camera and people making fools of themselves. There will be such memorable phrases as “why do they call it bowling when there aren’t any bowls” and “I am not an idiot. I nearly went to college!” The money would role in and Nick would be able to gain something that goes beyond his honeymoon memories from this botched marriage: the satisfaction of knowing that he will most likely make the same mistake again.

There is snow on the ground and that can only mean one thing. You need new tires. And as you slide into the nearest tire store there is that ever looming question. Can’t I just sell the car and get one with new tires already on it? No, that would be a little too easy and believe me many have tried that ploy before you and fell victim to its illustrious trap. No you must do as many generations before you have done and spend just shy of a month at the tire shop waiting for the new tires and consequential work to be done. Now I know what you are thinking. Ted you can tell us all we need to know so we don’t get ripped off when we go in. No I can’t. I signed the confidentiality agreement just like everyone else when I joined the club. Sorry I would like to help though so in order to prepare you for it I will lay out a typical visit to the tire shop.

You: Um, Yeah. I need…

Shop guy: A set of four new tires, a tune up, transmission service, transmission flush, plug wires, cap rotor, battery, alternator, wiper blades, air filter, fuel filter, new hoses, belts, and new brakes.

You: What, no. Well maybe, but today all I am looking for is tires.

Shop guy: You shouldn’t put off those other things I listed. You will have to by a new car if you don’t and you will definitely get stranded on the side of the road in the middle of a snow storm where God himself refuses to go out to help people.

You: You seem a little pessimistic.

Shop guy: I am just telling you what, in my professional opinion, is going to happen.

You: Anyways what is it going to cost me to put new tires on my car.

Shop guy: The Geo Metro?

You: Yeah. That’s mine. I am not looking for anything special just a cheap tire.

Shop guy: Owwww.

You: What?

Shop guy: Well I can tell from here it’s not going to be cheap.

You: What? How can you tell that from here?

Shop guy: Your Geo has got special suspension and steering on it and there is only one kind of tire that I can legally put on it.

You: It’s a Geo. I just wanted these tires listed here in your add for $100 for all 4 of them.

Shop guy: I would love to sell those to you but I would get in huge trouble for that.

You: You sold them to me last time.

Shop guy: Yeah, but they are really cracking down on that sort of a thing. I could go to jail if I sell you cheap tires.

You: Who exactly are “they” and what are they cracking down on?

Shop guy: I can’t tell you that.

You: What you are doing is illegal. It’s called bait and switch and I will call the better business bureau on you.

Shop guy: When you call them ask them if they need tires.

You: I am serious.

Shop guy: Tell them I will cut them a deal if the whole office gets tires.

You: You really aren’t afraid of them are you?

Shop guy: They probably need the tune up also.

You: Alright so how much do these tires cost.

Shop guy: Well your car needs the Michelin Gold series.

You: That doesn’t sound good.

Shop guy: They are called that because they have little flakes of gold in the treat of the tires.

You: How much is that?

Shop guy: We should be able to get you out of here for around $15,000.

You: It’s a Geo Metro! I bought the car for $200!

Shop guy: Good. You should be able to afford the tires then.

You: I am going somewhere else. Anywhere but here! (You turn to walk for the door)

Shop guy: Wait. Wait a minute.

You: What?

Shop guy: Promise me you won’t tell anybody and I will sell you a set of the Gold tires for $1,000.

You: How can you do that if they were originally $15,000?

Shop guy: Shhh! Do you want someone to here you. I can’t but, dang it, I feel for your situation!

You: Okay.

Shop guy: You want to go with those?

You: Whatever. Just do it.

Shop guy: Okay.

While the tires are being put on you over hear the salesman bragging to his boss he sold “some idiot” a set of tires for a Geo at $250 a tire. The salesman got a promotion. Your shrink got some new business. Your car got some new tires and you got some new monthly payments. It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

I was traveling home late one night amidst the ever falling snow of Minnesota when I was almost run off the road by some young whippersnapper in an 86 Ford Ranger. This isn’t that abnormal because there is a great deal of Minnesota that hasn’t yet been paved. So I thought little of it grumbling only slightly at the ineffectiveness of my newly purchased wiper blades (Bosch blades officially now suck). I came to a stop light and low and behold the Ranger was stopped in front of me. At last I could in act my revenge! I gathered a handful of snow from the roof of my car (it was coming down at quite a pace). Then carefully packed it using my heater to melt it and the air outside to make it solid ice. It was going to be tricky because there are certain preschool girls that throw better than I do with my left hand, but it had to be done. Just before I was to hurl my frozen ball of justice I saw his hand extend from the Ranger’s window holding some sort of wand. Dang it, I had ticked off Harry Potter himself! But no, wait, it isn’t a wand and I don’t think this high school drop out had “got savvy” to me. His hand extended forward and his wand pushed across his windshield. He was holding a squeegee that he had lifted from an unattended or apathetic gas station. This imbecile who cut me off and caused tens of dollars of damage to my mental health… he couldn’t even see. His windshield wipers didn’t even work. I still attempted to throw the ice ball but ironically it hit my own tire causing a flat. As I sat in the cold snow changing my tire I pondered the events of the past 15 minutes. I guess there is nothing that will keep a Minnesotan from driving in snow.

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Can you feel the power rise amidst the words of Christ
Can you hold the power now to which all creatures bow
What fear have I not mastered by none
But mastered by The One whom holds all power
How weak this plight now seems
How strong the one redeemed
Oh cursed place of Calvary
Now blessed as time has passed
And cursed sap
Now glorious shoot
What glory flowed on you
From His side now covered
You the first to taste redemption
But no use have you for it
So I take it up blessed drenched mount
Do you know what flows from you
Hope, freedom, promises kept
The fist act of true love the fist true blessing of man
Oh glorious blood
Your bitterness so sweet
The taste divine
Your salvation mine.