Put Slap 'pon de Grinches, Santa Still Vicious

It's three days until Christmas, I'm not done with my holiday shopping and the most important thing on my mind is whether that professor is really mouthing, "What. the. fuck?" to the stylishly wonkish chick in the Dr. Pepper "23" commercial. I'm still on the fence.

But before I run out and get everyone I know "Free wig with purchase of another wig -- Downtown Wig Emporium" coupons, there's still the pressing matter of the weekly cheerleader fix. (Quick aside: the best New Year's Toast I've ever heard, and couldn't verify, comes from Jimi Hendrix, who toasted, "To good health and a fix." Yes, concise and drug-related. Quite nice, says I.)

Appy-Polly-Loggies if this photo of the Cold Miserettes is no larger than the lump of shit I'm getting is my stocking (coal being too expensive). I felt the need to get the Colts in on the holiday action, as the post-Christmas period is never particularly kind to the fortunes of Lil' Ronnie's favorite squad, and this year appears even more dismal, so they might as well get all that merriment out of their system now.

Here's a negligibly larger one of the Rockets - Rockets!? As in basketball? - cheerleaders or dance team or somesuch nonsense. Sorry, apparently tracking down photos of cheerleaders in chintzy Santa hats is more than five minutes' work. Next year, I'll stick with cheerleader gift certificates.

I feel like the guy who didn't go to Jared.