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Your Elviscope for December

 

 

 

 

(cue Elvis song "whole lotta shakin' going on")

 

KARL: Your Elviscope for the month of December is cast by the pusillanimous prescient pugilist of paranormal perception, the pursuer of Parisian paramour, the truly mean Mr. Terry. That god damn nasty bastard divines your Elviscope for the month of December by splitting open shopping mall Santa Clauses with his trusty knife, reading their entrails, and checking them twice, to see who's been naughty or nice.

 

TERRY: Half digested cookies and milk and some stomach acid has run off onto the sacred icons of John Milson and the Elvis Christmas album. This month there will be a lot of tension about the contents of decorative packages as they sit under the mysterious livingroom trees. Oddly there will be more tension in homes where there are no packages at all resting under the anomalous livingroom tree. You will be surrounded in your homes by people of the same last name who will celebrate the birth of their lord and savior by consuming huge quantities of alcohol and a spiced egg drink that is usually scorned the rest of the year. Organized religion will see a one day resurgence near the end of the month, which will immediately drop off until about, oh, Easter. On the last day of the month more throngs of drunken people will cram themselves into rooms too small to safely hold them. These people will then suddenly stop their bacchanal shortly before midnight to hear the Dark Lord of Television himself, Dick Clark, pronounce the end of the calendar year, writing it off as one big twelve-month blooper, and then Dick Clark will command the start of a whole new year from scratch. He will then use a ten-second count down and a giant light bulb to allow all his drunken followers to synchronize their watches for the beginning of this Dick Clark mandated new year. Oh and spend money wisely because MasterCard will be knocking on your door the next couple of months.

 

KARL: What power! Once again the manipulative Yuletide Rasputin, the embodiment of consummate evil --

 

TERRY: -- Satan --

 

KARL: -- and bonhomme de carnival de humbuggery, Mr. Terry, has ruined the suspense of the holidays for all his faithful listeners by spelling out the futility of their attempts at happiness. Mr. Terry, who revels in the knowledge he is Elvis Presley's chosen prophet, has written an essay in this month's issue of Psychology Today exploring the link between what Christmas tree you own and what hidden mental problems lead you to purchase that particular tree, be it real, plastic, or aluminum. Here's a tip, people who buy blue aluminum trees are truly damned. Read it now and save the remaining holiday season from your rampant mental illness. It's on your newsstand everywhere!

 

 

 

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