And now, Scary-Crayon presents... by: Wes On the date of this posting (2/25/04), Scary-Crayon's officially been open just over a month -- but, in truth, it's been around quite a bit longer than that. A good number of the figures and memories that take center stage on the site have been with me since childhood, but I also mean that in a more literal sense -- SC has existed on my hard drive, in the form of scanned images, old blog entries, etc., and much of the content that appears on the site was written months in advance. This is one such article, written late one night in the days preceding December 25, 2003 -- perhaps on Christmas Eve or even the early hours of Christmas Day itself. I'm not exactly sure; I was drunk from eating large quantities of soggy Winter Fruity Pebbles in milk spiked with De Kuyper Thrilla Vanilla liqueur at the time. Around that time, people were sharing memories of holiday seasons past in the X-Entertainment blog, so I contributed to the mix and saved it to a separate text file, thinking maybe I could toss in a few pictures and make a short article out of it whenever SC got up and running. And I'm bored and kinda tired, so here we are. Also, sometime around then, I happened to intercept a communication -- a holiday communication -- that I kept around in the hopes that someday I could use it for content padding. It's festive, you see, so it fits. And given that it's no longer current, but several months old, it counts as a proper "memory" of a past Christmas -- hence the article title. So on with the useless filler memories! Wes's Xmas Memory Story Thing. Christmas memories...let's see. I barely remember what happened three years ago, let alone childhood events, but it's hard not to remember something when you've got a reminder of it staring you in the face all the time. My sister and I were really into E.T. in the fall of '88. I'm not quite sure why, given that E.T. came out in 1982, but it was our first Christmas back in the States after a couple of years in Germany. Maybe E.T. had just gotten big over there? That was the case with Madballs -- we got back here and they were all in $1 stores. Anyway, we really wanted a couple of giant-sized E.T. plushes, and on Christmas day, there, under the tree, we found two of the largest grey bootleg E.T.s you've ever seen -- the things were almost as tall as we were, and probably would have been if they hadn't been understuffed so that their necks were limp and their heads hung down to rest on their bellies. But we loved 'em anyway. Then apparently one of us got the bright idea of dressing them (they were about our size, though with much bigger asses), so we each got a t-shirt and a pair of underwear -- Mickey Mouse for me -- and, with a bit of a struggle, dressed 'em up good. Flipping through the family photo albums, there's something kinda weird about seeing us posing together with E.T.s in matching underwear, but anything goes at Xmastime, eh? So that's mah story. :) Awww, now wasn't that just speshyyl? But that's not all! I happened to stagger drunkenly from my cave to check the mail at some point in those latter days of December, and imagine my surprise when I found a strange and sticky letter in the mailbox! Unfortunately, it had been delivered to the wrong address -- it was actually addressed to a Mr. Santa Claus of the North Pole -- but I thought it was my duty to open it up, read it, and perhaps send a reply. Behold! The contents of that wayward envelope: Well! Anyone who knows The Wes knows that he's a really nice guy at heart, so perhaps what followed won't surprise you. Not only was I kind enough to black out the poor kid's name in the above scan, but I also took it upon myself to respond to the kid in loco Santae! Behold! My typed reply: Dear #######, I was very happy to receive your letter, especially because you did not ask for anything. So often this time of year I get letters from snot-nosed little bastards asking me for toys, yet they never think to write in the spring, summer, or fall to say, "Hey, Santa! How goes it? Must be pretty boring in the off-season, huh?" Ingrates. But not you, dear ####### -- for that, I thank you. However, other things about your letter were particularly insulting. For one, you must be aware that the mall Santas are not actually me -- despite what they may tell you, they're not even my helpers. I have no affiliation with them whatsoever. My point is this: you may have met the mall Santas, or Santas on the corner ringing a goddamned bell ad infinitum, but you have never met me. As such, you have no idea whether I am nice or not. I could be a real asshole for all you know. Just because I bring presents to children around the world doesn't make me nice -- I also get a hefty tax break for it, and for all you know that may be my sole motivation. Moreover, why do you assume that I go, "Ho Ho Ho"? You've only seen people who look like me saying, "Ho Ho Ho." Again, you've never met me. You've never seen me. STOP STEREOTYPING SANTA. #######, I have included an English dictionary and a book on grammar. Please read it -- your spelling could use some work. Unless you meant to call me "Deer Santa". Do you think that I am a reindeer? I am not a reindeer, though sometimes I wish that I were one when Mrs. Claus gets one of her "headaches". Vixen is such a beautiful animal, but Santa is not into bestiality. Been there, done that, Rudolph's nose hasn't stopped blinking since. Anyway! Write again when you finally pass third grade -- Sincerely, Santa Claus That kid was probably so thrilled to hear from Santa that he hung himself with that neglected string of unblinking Christmas tree lights in excitement -- but at least he died happy. And the lights found their true calling, too. :) Well, that does it for the first ('cause who knows, maybe there'll be more!) Scary-Crayon Christmas Memory Filler Stuff post. Hope you enjoyed it. :) Happy past and future holidays, one and all, whenever the hell you end up reading this. -- Wes -- Psst...wanna make a PayPal donation to Scary-Crayon? Just click the image above! Simple, no? ;)