ho, ho, ho...

When it actually snows enough to stick to the ground and cause me to dig through my car in search of my ice scraper only to find out it's missing, causing me to use a expired credit card to rid my car of the coat of ice on the windshield, only to have my fingers freeze because I forgot to put on gloves while doing so, I know it's time to talk about Christmas. (How was that for a run on sentence!?)

Order something pretty for Santa...he's on a diet (he has hypertension) and would much prefer to bring flowers home to the Mrs. Oh, and Santa would like you to know he's kinda sick of the whole red/green/white thing...and thinks you should throw in another color just to mix it up a bit.