My best friend's uncle once told him that Santa and his reindeer had been shot down over the Greybull river in Wyoming, and not to bother watching for him. He added, though, that the owners and ranch hands at the Pitchfork ranch ate very well that winter.

The same uncle later told my friend that Ronald McDonald wouldn't visit the local restaurant after being run over in the parking lot the previous weekend.

That kind of humor is beautiful in it's subtlety, and when delivered to an eight year old boy it's only that much more sublime.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

I am reminded of one of Jack Handey's Deep Thoughts:

"One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. 'Oh no,' I said, 'Disneyland burned down.' He cried and cried, but I think that deep down he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late."

At least Paleo didn’t tell any gruesome para-Santa stories from the air show.

Large Pizza anyone!

Must have been an AP report. Everyone knows the French don't know how to pull the trigger, let alone aim well enough to hit am low-flying aircraft.

It would make sense that Dasher would survive, as I believe he's Special Ops. I once heard he could survive for months in the woods living off nothing but leaves and water.

Oh, umm...I guess that's not such a big deal for a dear. Never mind.

A Soviet Politburo member, Rudolph Constinynko, once told my wife,
"Rudolph, the Red, knows rain, dear."

Well they sure couldn't shoot down any IAF aircraft, so they had to shoot down SOMETHING!

My Dad was a cop. He once told the daughter of a friend of his that he'd arrested Santa for breaking and entering. She was about 5 at the time. She told me at his funeral a couple of years ago she still hadn't forgiven him.