Dear Santa:

I can explain…

Remember the scene in the original Blues Brothers movie where Carrie Fisher has John Belushi trapped in the tunnel under the highway and is holding an automatic weapon on him, preparing to shoot his lying, betraying butt for standing her up at the altar? JB is on his knees, begging her not to kill him.

“I swear”, he cries, “it wasn’t my fault”.

“My car ran out of gas…”

“I had a flat tire…”

“I didn’t have any money for cab fare…”

“My tux didn’t come back from the cleaners…”

“An old friend came in from out of town…”

“Someone stole my car…”

“We had an earthquake…” (In Illinois?)

“There was a flood…”



Impressive list.

Just to set the tone here, I still believe in Santa Claus. Yes, it’s true, I still believe in the whole Santa and the elves and Mrs. Santa and Rudolph and the other reindeer and the toy factory and the sliding down the chimney, leaving presents and eating the milk and cookies schtick.

And don’t tell me about fantasies and impossibilities, okay? ‘Cause as far as I’m concerned, Funk and Webster’s should have taken the word “impossible” right out of their forking dictionary on November 9th 2016, the day after Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump got elected President of the United States.

Impossible? Shit, that was double-secret probation unbelievable.

I can still remember clearly watching all the election night/political analyst dweebs on CNN fumble-fucking all over themselves that evening, trying to wrap their minds around and then explain how in the world Donald Trump got elected, despite all their analysis and predictions that he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of beating Hillary “Lock Her Up” Clinton. (I didn’t think he did either.) The visages and verbal expressions of incredulity were everywhere. From the way their faces looked, you would have thought Wolf Blitzer had suddenly run on-camera stark naked from the wings offstage, yelling that he was the Emperor of Spleens and that he would sprout angel wings, fly off the roof of the CNN building there in Hotlanta and swoop down on Jane Fonda to prove it. (Yeah, I know, Jane and Ted aren’t together anymore, but who was Wolf gonna’ swoop down on, Hank Aaron?)

Stunned. Like a bovine hit with a cattle prod, right between the eyes stunned.

Impossible? Don’t tell me about impossible after that fiasco.

So yeah, I still believe in Santa. And the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and the Great Pumpkin and the check is in the mail. As far as I’m concerned, all bets are off since that November night, just over two years ago.

Anyway, I was in the middle of writing my annual letter to Santa Claus…

It wasn’t my fault, Santa, because I was led astray by evil, wanton women, who forced me to pursue sins of the flesh (repeatedly), to drink “likker” (repeatedly), to indulge myself with illegal drugs (repeatedly), to get a nipple ring (not repeatedly), to boldly go where no man has gone before and to party on, Wayne.

Party on, Garth.

So given my complete lack of culpability here (just like certain folks of the “liberal” persuasion…it’s always someone else’s fault), I’m going to give you my “wish list”, Santa, and hope you can see your way clear to bring me these things. At least one or two anyway.

Here we go…

~An electric train set. Not one of those little baby, roundy-round things, but one of those huge, fills up the whole basement monster sets with buildings and mountains and bridges and bushes and trees and tiny towns and little crossing barriers that go up and down and all kinds of cool-looking little railroad cars and engines in G or HO or BS scale or whatever the hell they are, chugging around the tracks making little “whoo-whoo” noises and blowing real smoke out the smokestacks. I’ll build it, I just need a place to keep it and the money to pay for it…that’s where you come in.

~A synthesized, gamma ray-generating 56mm harmonizing laser cannon.

~Some new underwear.

~Eight maids a-milkin’.

~A Pagani Huayra. (Please, oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please. A Porsche 718 Boxster would be okay too, but the Pagani would be way cool.)

~Every album ever recorded by the 1910 Fruit Gum Company.

~A Taylor 858ce twelve-string acoustic.

~And just like Sandra Bullock and all the contestants in the Miss United States beauty pageant (“It’s a scholarship program!”) in the movie Miss Congeniality, world peace.

~Oh, and free beer.

Yeah, I know, it seems like a lot, but honest SC, I truly have been good, other than those one or two moments of indiscretion I alluded to above. Certainly getting the nipple ring wasn’t really a “bad” thing to do, and it was way better than doing what Kelsey Grammer did in the movie Down Periscope…he had “Welcome Aboard” tattooed on his johnson, which now that I think of it, maybe wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have, being the Captain and Master of the R U Kidding and all.

Well, maybe just a decal (a very small one) at first, just to see how it looks.

Tell you what, Santa, I’ve got a better idea…instead of bringing me or anyone else all the material crap on their lists that, quite probably, they don’t need anyway, how about you take all the money and effort you would usually expend and build new places for those poor folks down in Puerto Rico? Or help out all the Floridians who lost everything they owned after Hurricane Michael? Or give a hand to all those poor people out there in Paradise and the rest of the California? In fact, how about if you just shut down the toyworks completely and put the elves to work on these types of projects all year round from now on?

I mean, I don’t really need a Huayra, and I can buy my own underwear. And how many more buildings and resorts and golf courses does Donald Trump need anyway?

Besides, it would save me having to write one of these dopey letters every December if you did.

Love and mistletoe,

Cap’n John

Post Script…full disclosure here: I didn’t really get a nipple ring.

I got two.


Being a prominent member of the media/blogger world (ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…that’s assuming you equate “prominent” with the phrase “infinitesimally small and thoroughly insignificant”), as well as a former resident of the entertainment and totally lacking in any concept of reality capital of the universe Los Angeles CA, I am the recipient of frequent tips and “leaks” from others of my brother and sister media slut/blogger fraternity, giving me an in-advance heads-up on upcoming events and projects in the television and movie industries.

(…”and the Oscar for the Most Convoluted Paragraph Ever Written By A Blogger Of Questionable Talent In A Comedy goes to…Cap’n John Krissongs for the above disaster!”)

Notice however that I didn’t change it…going down once again in a blaze of hyperbole.

Anyway, I recently received an email from my buddy and fellow laborer in the above-described fraternity, Harry N. Disgusting, warning, sorry, telling me about some new shows and movies that are currently either in pre-production or at least in the development stages.

You’re breathless with anticipation, right?

FYI, the original caption for this pic was “TV Helmet”…beats me.

Harry N. tells me that his sources are talking excitedly of a TV show being proposed for the White House by execs at Fox Entertainment as a vehicle for President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump, to be an “after the Presidency” project for His Eminence, and that the talk is pretty serious about the chances of this happening. Fox is proposing that the Pres star in a redux of the old “Captain Kangaroo” kids show, in the role of the venerable Captain; the working title is “Captain Tweety Bird”.

The idea would be for PTB to reprise a number of the original show’s features, such as the “Good Morning Captain” segment where he would be greeted by various celebrities, just as Bob Keeshan, who played the original Captain for so many years, was by such luminaries as William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy in their roles as Captain (one Captain to another) Kirk and Spock, as well as celebs like comedian Bob Newhart, actor Alan Alda and felon Bill Cosby. (Hillary Clinton volunteered to be a “greeter” for the new show, but only on the condition that they would be able to somehow slip “fuck you” past the censors.) Guests being discussed to wish PTB a good morning include hip-hop artist (boy, there’s an oxymoron for you) Kanye West, stripper and former PTB one-night amour Stormy Daniels and Elizabeth “Pocahontas” Warren.

Other segments from the original show that are being considered for the reboot are “Reading Stories”, where PTB will read some of his more hilarious and incoherent tweets and Presidential messages, various hand puppets dancing in a black light theatre to current hit songs such as “God Is A Woman and Trump Is A Fucktard” by Rio Grande as well as a remake of the running gag “Ping Pong Ball Drop”, where one of the cast members tells PTB a “knock-knock” joke that always ends with the phrase “ping pong balls”, at which time a slew of same are dumped on the Captain. (Someone involved in the production said that HRC suggested using bowling balls for this segment.)

Speaking of the supporting cast, there’s further talk that several members of the WH staff, as well as various Congressional hacks, er, sorry, Congresspersons will be featured as well…

~Playing the role of “Dancing Bear” would be Press Secretary Sarah Huckleberry Sanders…the costume should fit her perfectly, and she wouldn’t need the mask;

~In the role of “Bunny Rabbit” would be FLATUS, sorry, FLOTUS Melanoma Trump…if you recall, Bunny didn’t speak much but was kinda’ cute (at least BR kept his clothes on);

~Playing the role of “Grandfather Clock” would be Presidential Advisor KellyAnne Conway Twitty, given her ability to sound off regularly just to remind us of her presence;

~The role of “Mr. Moose”, the hand puppet, would be played by Senator Mitch McConnell, based on his experience…McConnell is said to be okay with having someone’s hand up his backside and being directed on what to do/say;

~And finally, the Captain’s sidekick and occasional foil “Mr. Green Jeans” would be played by Chief of Staff John Kelly, who is said to look good in green, apparently a holdover from his days in the Marine Corp.

New segments being discussed for the show include “Hangin’ With The Bird”, where PTB shows kids how to become a gazillionaire on their father’s money; or “The Blame Game”, an audience-participation thing where the Captain accuses kids in the studio of fictitious misdeeds that are really his fault and the accused gets prizes for the best/quickest comeback; or “Slam A Libtard”, a daily segment where PTB picks a different Democrat each show to demean and allows the kids at home to vote, via digital tally, for the most slanderous, disgusting nickname for that day’s target.

Production will begin, we all pray fervently, on January 21, 2021.

I further hear some other rumors from HND, such as a proposal to make a sequel to the excellent adaptation of John Grisham’s thriller “The Firm”, which you will recall starred Tom Cruise as the hero, attorney Mitch McDeere; the new movie will star Cruise again in the McDeere role, this time playing an attorney for a mattress manufacturer who encounters corruption in the bedding industry…title for the new movie is to be “The Extra Firm”.

(Insert rim-shot here.)

Another idea being talked of with great enthusiasm in LaLaLand (Los Angeles, not Washington), according to Harry, is a new soap opera to be entitled “The Young and The Bewildered”. It will tell the story of a group of “millennials” and their continuing day-to-day struggles to function as real adults in a world of which they have little actual comprehension.

Personally, I’m hoping for a remake of “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show”; by show of hands, how many of you think R and B were WAY smarter, funnier and totally more sophisticated than any of those morons on “Keeping Up With The Karpathians” or whatever the hell their name is?

Love and video tape,

Cap’n John