It's Christmas. I'm not writing this on Christmas. I don't work for Scrooge. I work for the man upstairs. Like one floor above. He's nice enough. He still thinks my name is Steve. It's Christmas Eve and before the third egg nog settles in, I wanted to wish everyone a truly Merry Christmas. Nobody says that out loud so much anymore which is truly odd. Then again, much of the world shuns super sextastic mostly naked women, and that baffles me even more. This yuletide may the spirit of whatever brings a smile to your face fill you body and soul. We're just here to have fun.