“There’s a War on Christmas! Mayday! Mayday! Get Rudolph to a safe, undisclosed location! Call the Secret Service! Call your Secret Santa! Oh, Lord!”
Calm your ass down, man.
“Gimmie a beer! Load your guns! Fill your stockings!”
There’s no war on Chr—
“The liberals are comin! The liberals are comin!”
I don’t know what’s dancing in your head, but it ain’t sugarplums.
“They’re te… they’re te…”
“They’re tellin me I gotta say (gag, choke) ‘Happy Holidays.’ Mangers Away! Deck those Halls! Lively and quick, lads, lively and quick!”
Nobody’s telling you that you have to say anything. And even if they were, since when did you ever give two hoots in Hell what anyone else told you to do, think, or say?
“You just don’t get it, do you? Read my lips: They Have Declared War On Christmas!”
Stop shaking my shoulders, back up, and listen. No one has declared war on Christmas, and even if they had, keep this in mind: LBJ declared war on poverty; Nixon declared war on drugs. Seems the best way to keep Christmas alive and thriving would be to declare war on it.
“You can have my candy canes when you pry them off my cold, dead Christmas tree!”
Hey, if you want to say, “Merry Christmas,” and I want to say, “Have a fun day off, with pay,” we’re both—let me check—yes, we’re both free to say that.
“But they said on the news…”
Houston, we see the problem.