![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.supertmh2.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/12\/1300-1-santander.gif\" "\\"santander\\"")
Yes predictive Google image search, I was searching for images of Santander.<\/p><\/div>\n
In a world where kids have access to the internet, how can Santa still exist? And I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not talking about that \u00e2\u20ac\u0153ooh the glorious spirit of St. Nickleclaus that lives inside each and every one of us\u00e2\u20ac\u009d bullshit. I mean, the concept of a man entering your house in the middle of the night, depositing toys and videogames on your living room floor (for free), and then leaving before your parents have the opportunity to either call the police or beat him to death with a yule log. It doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t add up! And I guess that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s where the magic and wonder of Christmas comes in, but I was a pretty jaded kid. If the internet existed when I was 6 (shut up, I know it existed you nerds), chances are pretty good that my parents would find a history trail of hastily spelled Google searches and cross-referenced Wikipedia articles proving that what Keith Malcolm said at recess was true – Guns N\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Roses are the best band ever, and Santa Claus isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t real.<\/p>\n
So kids still believe in him; does that mean mall Santas with real beards are still a thing? When a mall Santa has a real beard it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a sign of authenticity – this man is serious about spreading holiday cheer. The same cannot be said for mall Santas that are 350 pounds and constantly talking to children during the off season. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ho-ho-ho, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s August and now my sleigh is this van, boys and girls! It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s like a workshop on wheels, filled with hobby horses and jack-in-the-boxes and eight tiny reindeer or whatever… don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t tell your parents that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re friends, ok boys and girls? HO-HO-OH GOD MY HEART!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s funny because he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s fat and there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s implied child rape.<\/p>\n
So, \u00e2\u20ac\u02dctis the season, I guess. My favorite Christmas tradition is when my father pulls me aside and apologizes for lying to me about the existence of Santa Claus. Every year, without fail. And this is going back, like, more than 20 years now. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m leaving out cookies for Santa and carrots for Rudolph and my father\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s stomach is just knotted with guilt… I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m lying to my son in the name of commercialism! ARGH FUCKING CHRISTMAS I HATE IT! My poor father. I was pretty ok with the whole Santa isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t real thing once I realized that I could still ask for Star Wars figures<\/a> and Nintendo games<\/a> and get them. But not the Lego Monorail<\/a>, because it was like $150,000.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Can you believe that it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s 2010 and little kids still believe in Santa Claus? This came to me as I was running through the mall the other day, trying desperately to return a shirt without looking at anyone or saying more words than, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want, you give money.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d There, in front of Victoria\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Secret and a kiosk that sells nothing but remote controlled helicopters, was Santa. And in front of Santa was a long line of rosy-cheeked cherubs and their nervous parents, hoping that if they focus their brain power hard enough their child won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have a reality-bending panic attack before their picture is taken. <\/p>\n