Sunday, December 22, 2013

Satan Claus, Santa Claus, I'm Sure There Are A Lot Of Confused Dyslexic Children Out There!

"HEY! IT'S SATAN CLAUS!"

It's really not a far fetched concept to confuse the two of them.  I mean, if you grew up believing in the theory of God/Satan and also believing in Santa Claus, it's totally possible that if you're a dyslexic child, you could confuse the two.  Lets look at the similarities, shall we?  Both wear red, both have an awareness of your behaviour, and if you misbehave, you suffer the consequences-at Christmas, if you have been a bad boy or girl, Santa leaves coal in your Christmas stocking, and if you believe in the God/Satan arrangement, if you misbehave or do something wrong, you're going to go straight to hell.  Although, for some, being condemned to a warm climate for all eternity might not be a bad thing.  Being sent to a cold climate for all eternity with a fat man in a red suit might be a more fitting punishment.  

As a lapsed and sometimes quite confused Catholic, I really don't see much difference between the two.  These days, I'm all about which would be more fun in the end.  At Christmas, assuming that I have behaved fairly decently over the past 365 days, and barring me calling someone a douchewad to their face or just being a downright miserable bitch, I just might get that Lego set that I've been eyeing for the last year or so (yes, I'm 30ish and still want Lego bricks...get over it!).  But this is an annual routine that could go on for decades. That's a lot of good behaviour for Lego bricks and other various toys that I might add to my wish list.  I live in an apartment. I don't know if I have that much room for storage.  I think I'm going for the big eternal damnation, and I'll tell you why.

Growing up as a Catholic, I learned right from wrong, learned to be a good girl and behave and live a "right life".  Well, that lasted all of maybe 18/19 years, and then I went to college.  It was at this point that I realized that a lot of the fun stuff that I enjoyed doing in life didn't exactly fall into the category of good Catholic life behaviour: sex before marriage, alcohol (tasty, tasty alcohol), and general debauchery that makes for a good story once I'm on the other side of the turf.  I have been known to do and say things that would (and did) make most people shake their heads, and some people say that I'm going to go straight to hell (I'm guessing that they believe in God, or have never known the awesomeness of alcohol-induced debauchery like I have).  I'm oddly okay with that, even if I am a pasty girl who burns after 5 minutes in the sun.  According to my friends, I will be on the 7th level of hell, and I'm in charge of bringing sunscreen for those fair skinned friends that will be joining me in the after life.  Now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me.  I'm actually a pretty well behaved person for the most part, but I do enjoy partaking in activities that would make a priest blush at confession if I went a month or two without confessing all of my sins.  Truthfully, just thinking about it makes my knees hurt, but that's neither here nor there.

I don't know why they couldn't have two setups at the mall.  One display for Santa Claus, where all the non-dyslexic boys and girls go to request their reward toys for Christmas, and a display with someone dressed up as Satan for the rest of us.  If I had to hazard a guess, that lineup will be far longer than the one for the jolly old fat man, and, instead of a candy cane and a picture of a crying child, you would be getting a shot of JD, and a picture of a beaming boy or girl who knows that they'll be the truly lucky ones in the end.  

Merry Christmas, everyone!


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