Deck the hall with stuff that’s crappy,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
‘Tis the season to be tacky,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Any day now, they'll be at it again. The homeowners in my fair city who have an obsessive fondness for giant inflatable decorations, including off-putting Halloween fare, will install their cherished collection of blow-up Christmas oddities (such as a six-foot white bear wearing a red Santa hat). Can't visualize what I'm talking about? Imagine the Christmas critters you might conjure up if you went to sleep on a full stomach of way too much Mexican food and then channeled Tim Burton in your dreams.
Adding insult to injury, these folks only inflate their not-so-festive holiday from hell at night. So sad mounds of deflated plastic litter their yard during the day. It’s as if someone arrives daily at dawn to slay this monstrous menagerie, only to see it bounce back, vampire-like, when the sun sets.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, despite this weird blight.”
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, despite this weird blight.”
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