The one day a year when (((I))) can point and make fun without fear of being thrown down a well. Until tomorrow. It’s actually been pretty quiet here, between the students being gone and the weather being unfriendly, unless you like windy, bitter cold and whiteout conditions. The dog I’m sitting has refused to go out for almost three days, and his bladder has to be as distended as Lizzo’s gunt. No matter, I acknowledge that it’s December 25, and wish all of you a Merry Chilly Goy Day.

But despite the supposed holiday, (((we))) at least have to acknowledge birthdays, which today include a guy with some gravity; the star of Naughty Nurses: The Original, whose career arc was typical of “non-profit” leaders, and had a country estate almost next door to us; a woman who was made up; the progenitor of many generations of shitty cars; an actor who was typecast and did great with it; another guy I’d be happy to do some lines with; a guy who did great and was rewarded for it as expected; a short guy with an outsized impact; a quarterback who was always amazing fun to watch; a Team Red piece of shit who still plagues us; a contender for the best all-around baseball player since Ruth; and a bearded Zoolander, who got his father’s ethics and his mother’s intellect.

Let’s get a-linkin’.

 

Wait, didn’t we do this story last week?

 

I’m still not sure if anyone is bothering to follow this sideshow anymore.

 

My predictions are going mainstream.

 

Build that wall!

 

How about let anybody have a beard? Why does it have to only be an option because of religion?

 

Putting aside the now-obligatory affirmation that sex isn’t binary but a “spectrum,” this is actually pretty cool research.

 

This is my favorite Christmas song ever. It’s the only one I’m aware of with Joseph’s POV and dealing with the practicalities of actually having the baby Jesus. And don’t let the pic fool you- Maggie doesn’t sing this, she’s just the eye candy Southpaw uses to sell albums.