We took the kids to the mall the other morning so that we could get our annual family photo with Santa, which we use for our Christmas card each year, and, yes, we really are just too cute, aren’t we? (I’d show you the picture now, but that would ruin it for those of you who’ll be receiving it by mail—and we all know that one of the biggest highlights of the holiday season is receiving our Christmas card, right? You’ll soon see it, though … and, if you’re lucky, I’ll even reveal to you the massive amount of Photoshopping I did to that picture to ensure that Wonder Woman and I look about 10 years younger than we actually are.)
But anyhoo … while we were at the mall, we sauntered past the Apple Store, a.k.a. The Place Where I Would Spend Thousands Upon Thousands Of Dollars In The Blink Of An Eye If Only I Were In A Position To Do So. Sadly, I’m not … and this smart-ass Apple Santa here seems to know it, because, is it just me, or does the look on his face say, “Awww, what’s wrong, little boy? You can’t afford to buy one of these here touchscreen iPods or an iPhone, the mobile device you crave oh-so-much? Tsk-tsk. That’s toooo bad. Well, maybe I’ll bring you one for Christmas … ho ho ho! … that’s a good one, eh? Of course, I can’t bring you one for Christmas … because I don’t really exist … but you already know that, because you’ve spent all of your money in order to make your kids believe that I do exist! Is this some kind of racket I’ve got going here, or what? Ho ho ho!”
Fuck you, Santa.