![]() Sexy can I? |
I saw Mommy tickle Santa ClausThe premise of this song isn't as sing-songy as the execution. A kid comes downstairs, sees his mother kissing Santa, and laughs heartily about catching a glimpse of her cheating on his father. What a laugh it would've been if mom really was kissing an old obese guy in the living room and dad came home early from his business trip to St. Louis. "I Saw Daddy Hitting Santa Claus In the Head With a Shovel and Screaming Something About a Pre-Nup" doesn't quite have the same kitsch.
Underneath his beard so snowy white.
Oh, what a laugh it would have been,
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.
Next comes the stocking of little Will,So Santa's going stocking to stocking, giving these kids presents. And he gives a little boy four items that could be part of an "My Lil' S&M Dungeon" starter kit. If only Santa had a gimp hood and nipple clamps somewhere in his bag.
Oh just see what a glorious fill.
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks,
Also a ball and a whip that cracks.
The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there.This is a very popular duet but, on some level, it's about a woman trying to leave and a guy throwing every single line he can think of to get her to stay and, ostensibly, have some sex. (Or, at the time when this was written, perhaps some necking and petting.) It's the holly jolly rebuttal to "no means no."
Say, what's in this drink - No cabs to be had out there.
I wish I knew how - Your eyes are like starlight now.
To break this spell - I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell.
I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride?
I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out.
Ahh, but it's cold outside.
He sees you when you're sleeping,Little needs to be said here -- whether it's Santa Claus, Holden Caulfield's English teacher, or a guy across the street in a tree with binoculars, you really don't want someone watching you when you're sleeping. Especially when he gets carte blanche to enter your house later that month.
He knows when you're awake.
![]() Here's, uh, myrrh. |
Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume,So what you're telling me is you brought me some myrrh -- I'm still not altogether sure what myrrh is -- and you're telling me if I smell it it's going to make me think of a guy dying a slow, painful death while he's buried alive? This is the worst birthday ever. If you were going to give me a gift that smelled like painful death, at least you could've sprung for some Axe body spray.
Breathes a life of gathering gloom.
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone cold tomb.
We want some figgy pudding,Everyone loves when people come to their house, rudely demand an obscure batch of pudding, then hold a sit-in until you bring it out. It's exactly what sit-ins were made for.
Please bring it right here!
...
We won't go until we get some.
We won't go until we get some.
We won't go until we get some.
So bring it out here.
Bells will be ringing, the glad, glad news.And *this* is why you have to be careful not to abandon your friends once you get into a relationship.
Oh, what a Christmas, to have the blues.
My baby's gone, I have no friends,
To wish me greetings, once again.
Pray for the other onesThis '80s British equivalent of "We are the World" is supposed to be a reminder to think of those less fortunate than you this Christmas -- but, at least from where I'm judging, the execution is comically condescending and misguided. Yes, let's all thank God that we're not poor but instead those other people are.
At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun,
There's a world outside your window,
And it's a world of dread and fear.
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears.
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom,
Well tonight, thank God it's them instead of you.
![]() Check out that body. |
It has a lovely body,This is probably the best-known Hanukkah song. It starts with building a dreidel... and then quickly evolves into checking out the dreidel's sexy body and playing with him so much that you tire him out. And trust me, there's no element of that in Hanukkah. It's not a sexy holiday. They don't sell Hanukkah lingerie. The oil that lasts for eight nights isn't edible body oil.
With legs so short and thin.
And when he gets all tired,
He drops and then I win.
Some children see him lily white,Maybe it's nitpicking, but I personally don't see color. Unlike, apparently, all of the children of the world.
The baby Jesus born this night.
...
Some children see him bronzed and brown,
With dark and heavy hair.
...
Some children see him almond eyed,
With skin of yellow hue.
...
The children in each different place,
Will see the baby Jesus's face
Like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace,
And filled with holy light.
![]() Kissing ginger Santa for toys. |
If you sit on my lap today,This is from the stop-motion "Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town" TV special (see the video here). It was made in 1970 where I've been told it wasn't creepy for adult males (even ginger ones) to ask little kids for kisses in exchange for presents. Forty years later, and we just can't roll with that. If a mall Santa started asking kids for kisses a group of parents would drag him right off his chair, take him to the food court and violate him with hot dogs on a stick.
A kiss a toy is the price you'll pay.
When you tell what you wish for in a whisper,
Be prepared to pay.