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So I was thumbing through The Necronomicon the other day when I realized that there was no putting it off any longer: I had to get a new cell phone.  The one I’d bought in 1999 was just getting too old.  The battery would only last 7-10 minutes whenever I used it, and clerks would only laugh and point fingers at my nose as I searched for a replacement battery.  Anyway, let’s face it: the quality of cell phone service offerings in 1999 hardly compares to today’s.  So I decided then and there to get a new phone.

For some people, this automatically requires several weeks of research into possible new carriers, phone models, desired services, and cost comparisons, while carefully reading the latest Consumer Reports.  In difference, I walked into the nearest mall some days later, a few shots under my belt, found the Sprint kiosk and announced that I was a Sprint customer and wanted to upgrade my phone.  And no, I didn’t bring my old phone with me or anything else besides my wallet and a Frappuccino from the nearby Starbucks.  Spontaneity is key.

Once again we're at a time of year when we toss all rationality into the snowbanks (or receding toxic hurricane slurry) and believe instead in very bizarre things.  I'm talking, of course, about the belief that an extremely obese man -- in a flaming red costume no less -- will sneak uninvited into our homes while we're asleep (a felony), and -- instead of robbing and killing us -- leave us with a pile of presents and then vanish, leaving everything else we own undisturbed, except for a few cookies and an unrefrigerated glass of milk.  Grown people, with responsible jobs who collectively control trillions of dollars of our national economy, pass this belief along to the smaller people in their households as well, usually accompanied by jovial renditions of their own over idealized stories of years gone by.  These smaller people, besides for the small genetic gullibility inherited from the taller ones, otherwise would have been perfectly capable of becoming rational, responsible individuals with little to no need to believe in felonious fat guys.  Here, have some nog.

It wouldn't be This Time Of YearTM without IRREVERENT doing something seasonally spooky. This year is no exception, so let's talk about ghosts. First off, in the spirit (ha ha) of full disclosure, let me admit that I don't believe in ghosts. I also don't believe in the boogeyman, paranormal spirits, angels, or that they actually managed to get studio financing for over a dozen Friday the 13th movies and Freddy Versus Jason. I prefer to believe they just sold drugs. And obviously consumed them during production.

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