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Flashing Jesus.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Everyone in the neighborhood (except us) has begun the task of decorating their homes in the spirit of the holiday in as many crass, tacky and cheesy ways as possible.

I’ve mentioned before that the neighbors enjoy lighting up their house beyond belief. Said house is a year-round mess in serious need of repair. They still have bats and witches on display, which have been tossed aside haphazardly for their Christmas display. Every year Freakboy and his ugly sisterwife (probably not their real names) throw gargantuan blow up ornaments all over the lawn and surround them with lights of every size, shade and hue, none of which match. This year they’ve added some new trinkets to the wild mish-mash of color, including a blow-up manger scene. Nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a puffed up Joseph and three puffy wise men. They’ve also added “animation” to the horrific affair by making things blink. Randomly. Everything blinks randomly. In fact, I believe they’ve hooked some of the blow up things into the blinking mechanism because the giant Santa Claus that appears to be molesting Mary also seems to be breathing hard. (I haven’t figured out why Santa Claus and Frosty are both standing at the manger yet). There he is, Santa Claus standing erect, deflated, erect, a little deflated, up and down in time with the lights while simultaneously groping The Virgin Mother. The baby Jesus keeps time by flashing on and off as Santa breathes hard while groping Mary. Why have a baby in a manger when you can have a baby with pizazz and make him blink on and off?

I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.