Dear Santa...

Several years back in Murfreesboro, I stumbled up on this advertisement in The Daily News Journal for a "Dear Santa" section they'd soon be printing. Apparently, they were soliciting little kids in the area to send in their own personal letters to Santa, and then (in a supposed "super cute" fashion) they'd run these letters in some insane attempt to sell ads around them.

This was never really admitted, but I believe they had full intentions of gathering all these letters and mailing them directly to some remote, icy region of the Northern hemisphere, where a giant, old, fat, wise man lives who wears red and sneaks around like a ninja once a year.

Always seeing the opportunity to exercise my first-amendment rights, I'd write Santa a letter every single year and mail it to The Daily News Journal.

Since I knew those clever bastards would never run my letter if they knew it came from an adult man, I did what any other lying, truth-concealing, system-bucking citizen would do: I wrote in fake letters from a child named "Frank Stallone."

Now we all know for a fact that the real Frank Stallone has been responsible for a LOT of carnage over the years. He invented NAFTA, for example, and also NAP-STER, which enraged Larz Ulritch and a slew of other music artists. (The singer known only as "Sisquo" couldn't be reached for comment.) He killed Robert Palson in a hit and run incident, and was the man single-handedly responsible for the downward spiral of Lindsey Lohan. What's more is that he launched a devastating attack on morality when he wrote the business model for MTV to stop running actual music videos and create a slew of reality (or pseudo-reality) shows which would serve to turn an entire generation's brains into buckets of mule deer bile and semen.

With all that in mind, Stallone would make the perfect scapegoat for my Santa letters. So without further delay, let me copy and paste my Santa letters from 2001 and 2002:

__________________________________________

Dear Jolly Old Santa,

Hey big guy, how's it going this year? Are you still a wise, old man? I hope so! This is your old friend, Frank Stallone from Smyrna!! Well this time I'm a year older, so I don't want to ask you for stupid kid stuff anymore. Plus, I think I've been extra good too. I've contributed to several charities, donated blood, served on the boards of several non-profit organizations, and when my buddy Carl dared me to pee on that tenth grader when he fell asleep in the bathroom, I didn't pee on him, I took a big poop on his face. (That was awesome!) Anyway, so you get the idea. Since I recently broke up with my girlfriend Brittany, I would like to ask that you set her ass on fire. You don't have to use gasoline or anything, I think just plain old lighter fluid will work great. I would really love to see that crazy bitch running around like a human torch. There's just something so funny about a girl when she's on fire and her arms are flailing around and she looks like she's dancing, but she's actually in a lot of pain. Oh yeah, I could also use a new gobotron and a new fish, 'cause my old one got eaten by the cat. If you can make my dreams come true, Santa, please do it because if you don't I'll cry and throw a fit. I'll walk into Food Lion, hold my hands into fists and just spin around like a helicopter, knocking everything and everyone down. (Even that big display of paper towels and tampons.)

Bye Bye Santa, I love you!
-Frank Stallone

P.S. Sorry about the couch.

P.P.S. Last year when you came by, I must have missed you because I was asleep. So this year, when you get here, could you come in my room and wake me up? I know you're a busy man and everything, but I'd like to maybe share a beer with you and talk about girls and football.

P.P.P.S. Don't eat those cookies on the table, they're plastic.

__________________________________________


Dear Santa,

What's happening big guy?

Well Santa, it's me again. You remember me from last year, right? Anyway, this year I've been way better than last year. Except for that one time that I punched that kid in the face at my sunday school class for calling my grandmother a cunt. This year I'd appreciate it if you could do me a favor. Instead of the usual "give me all this stuff" routine, I was wondering if you could instead make me the king of my neighborhood. That's right, Santa, I want to be the leader of all the other kids in my subdivision. I want them to have to kiss my hands and feet all the time and bring me fruit and stuff too. It would also be cool if you could hook me up with a neat crown with jewels and stuff in it, but they can be fake ones. See, Santa, the important thing here is to make me all-powerful. I want to be able to say, "Hey, you! Get me some Kool-Aid!!! Now, you cocksmoker!!!" Or be able to say, "Hey, you, hot blonde girl! Come satisfy my curious boy-urges at once!!" You know, something like that. And another thing, if you could help my dad get a job I'd appreciate that too. Also, could you hook me up with some marijuana? My usual hook in the neighborhood got arrested last week and I've been dry as hell for a few days now. Oh yeah, that's another thing, could you get my dealer out of jail? It was a big set-up, you know! If you can't get him out of jail, could you bring me a big truck and some logging chains so i can break him out of the jail house by tying the chains to the bars and pulling them off the walls? I saw that one time on the Andy Griffith Show. Anyway, Santa, thanks for being so fat and being jolly and stuff. You are a jolly and wise old man.

I love you very much!
Frank Stallone

__________________________________________


Well, faithful readers, thanks for reading. I hope you guys have the best Christmas ever and that your wildest dreams come true. I've bought my family some pretty special gifts and I definitely can't wait to see the look on my mom's face when she opens that box and discovers that awesome severed raccoon head that I found in my neighbor's driveway.

Have a wonderful holiday season and if you were to REALLY open a gift from me... it would be a whole bunch of love wrapped in tissue paper and solid gold ribbons. Also maybe a picture of me giving a thumbs-up, and also a can of WD-40.

I love you guys!

-McClane

Cumpston vs. Cloverfield

If there's one thing that keeps me waking up in the morning, it's hope that Neill Cumpston will publish another movie review. In the post below this one, I threw up the first few minutes of the upcoming mysterious film, "Cloverfield," and now it seems that Cumpston (thank God) has seen this film.

Personal favorite highlight: "The monster RIPS THE LIVING SHIT out of the city, and everyone in its path. It’s like the Iraq War and Hurricane Katrina and Kathy Griffin’s vagina combined and turned into a giant murder-beast and it’s hungry for every hip person in Manhattan."

If that doesn't make you want to see this as soon as humanly possible, I don't know what's wrong with you. What's wrong with you???

Waste even more time at work and check this out.

Putting on my cock-punch glove,

-McClane

Some Thing Has Found Us

Ah, J.J., stop being such a genius.

HOWEVER, this clip is pretty intense. I'm pretty intrigued, how about you?




Until Lady Liberty's head comes smashing though my bedroom, I'll be....

-McClane

James Franco: Less than a God... MORE THAN A MAN!!!

I can't even handle the genius of this.



Hurry up and get here.

-McClane

Thanks a lot, Pen Pal.

Okay, so not so many blog postings lately, right?

Yeah, I know.

Hang in there, true believers, I'm not done yet. I've been really busy with work, investing a lot of time in my side business (founder and C.E.O. of "McClane's Refurbished Tanning Beds: We'll do it to/for you!") and writing a whole lot to this damn pen pal I've picked up.

Basically, the pen pal is ransacking my blog duties.

It's tough to write a big blog posting when you're pouring your heart, soul and crotch into a series of chain letters to some maniac pen pal. I have to tell you, though, as pen pals go, it's been some pretty interesting conversation. Some highlights have included obsessions with squares, right angles, pocket watches, green grain (apparently), titanium jaws, pubic speaking, whiskey, ice climbing and now, as it seems, a consuming passion for "Maniac Mansion," the Commodore 64 and Nintendo game from the late 80's to early 90's.

So, faithful readers, more as this horseshit develops. In the mean time, feast your heart and soul on this... one of my all-time favorite video clips from the past. You know you've seen it before, so sit back, smoke a "flat spliff" and enjoy.

I love you.

-McClane