-day one- Today is the first day of the Jewish Christmas. I couldn’t be more excited. I am in a relationship with one of those Jewish American Princesses so this is my first time celebrating the glorious week of feasting and drinking in honor of Palestine’s eventual death. To be honest, even though I was brought up in a Christian home, I can’t wait to taste my first Matzo loaf made with the blood of Christian babies. My little Jewish queen girlfriend mentioned something about being the only child in her second grade class who didn’t believe in Santa Claus. I hope that means we get to run through the streets (well, I doubt she will run because she has asthma and runs like a turtle, but I can piggyback her around) in search of those Santa rapists on the corner begging for money and ringing bells to attract the children so they can stuff them in their present bag and bring them back to the North Pole where they’ll put them in the elf maker machine. Yeah, I figure we can knock out a few of these St. Nick’s of the apocalypse. Now, I know there are a lot of traditions and regulations for this Jewish holiday, but I really wish they’d include the destruction of Christian holiday icons to the list. I’m not even talking about cutting the heads off these corner Santas. I’d settle for throwing snowman and reindeer decorations from people’s yards into the street for the plow to run them over. In fact, that’s what I plan to do tonight. Consider it the Jewish Christmas’ form of caroling. As for my holiday generosity, I believe the perfect present for that special someone on the first day of the Jewish Christmas is a Kabbalah necklace. Oh yeah, will someone please explain this menorah thing to me. Is it some kind of twelve arm god? -day two- Second day of Jewish Christmas Let me first explain that I never planned to attend a white power rally on the first day of the menorah lighting. I only wanted to witness and take part in a traditional Jewish ceremony. Now, even though I found myself amongst the white hoods and was wearing one of these hoods myself at one point I plead innocence. To begin, how can I be blamed for entering this rally when it blatantly says, “Hanukkah Rally” on a banner out front of the VFW hall? Granted, the banner actually read, “hanuKKKah” and the K’s were twice as big as the other letters, but I thought this was some kind of Hebrew dialect that I wasn’t aware of. As for the third K, my mind completely skipped over it. Sure, perhaps you could blame this on some subconscious racist feelings that I’m not aware I carry trapped deeply within, but can you really hold it against me that there may be inhibitions in me that I’m not even aware of? Now, I know what you’re thinking. This is all fine and good, but didn’t you say earlier that you donned the hoods of the KKK? Technically, I did. Once again, I can explain. You see, when I entered this gathering there was a table greeting me. A friendly (I was surprised that not all members of the klan were grumpy or enraged) face welcomed me and asked if I was a member. “Actually, I’m not,” I said. “That’s fine,” said the friendly racist, “We can either sign you up for a year membership or you can make a small donation and get a month trial membership.” “Well, I have always been curious.” At this point I was still oblivious to what type of membership I would be getting. Being the gullible mind that I am I thought it was a great idea for the Jewish faith to offer temporary memberships and began to wonder why other religions didn’t offer similar options as I filled out the necessary paperwork. Honestly, I should have figured it out when the friendly face handed me over a set of white sheets after I signed my name and made a modest contribution of twenty dollars (apparently this was the minimum amount if you wanted cotton robes instead of paper), but I just figured it had to do with something holiday that I wasn’t aware of. As I looked through the robes I thought it was funny that no little cap was included. “What, no yarmulke?” I asked. “Good one,” said the friendly face as they gave a little chuckle. I shrugged and began making my way towards the auditorium doors as I pulled on my robes and wondered how I was supposed to wear the triangle sheet. Finally, I realized it was a hat and put it on as I opened the doors. To my credit I got out of their quick and threw my robes into the river. As the sheets sunk into the water and drown I turned to the sky and shouted to the gods. “Damn you Palestine!” -day three- I woke up early and found a goldfish in my left shoe. I figured it was my holiday meat for the day and I brought it down to the kitchen to fry up with some eggs. I decided an omelet would be best, but was surprised when I took my first bite and found the goldfish tail still wiggling around. I guess an omelet was a bad choice. Instead, I tried putting it in a bowl of cereal which was fine, but I underestimated how quick it was and wasn’t able to scoop it up with my spoon. I wasn’t too upset. I decided to leave the bowl of milk with the goldfish for my cat. My pet deserved to enjoy the Jewish Christmas just as much as me. As I set the bowl on the floor I came to the realization that I hadn’t seen my cat in weeks. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw my cat. I don’t remember ever seeing a cat in my apartment. I decided to forget about my cat and fish. I would take a shower. It was best not to have a dirty Jewish Christmas. The food tastes better when you have clean ears. While scrubbing my eyebrows I thought of the goldfish and the times we had shared. It was funny to think back upon all great moments as I stood in shower letting soap run into my eyes. I like that fish I thought. I don’t want to eat it. I could use a new friend. In my towel, still wet from the shower, I went to say hello to my new friend. Maybe I will give him a bath, I thought. The bowl was empty. My fish was gone. Maybe I do have a cat. The mysteries of the holidays. -day four- I never realized how strenuous the Jewish Christmas was. I always thought it was a glorious eight days of nothing but festivities which it is, but I never imagined it how tiring it could get after just four days. I mean I’ve been drinking nothing but egg nog for three days and as a result haven’t taken a piss in two days. It was especially painful the other day when I went for a three mile run and came home only wanting a glass of water. I held strong though. Egg nog only comes once a year and I’m not going to waste these eight days just because I’m a little tired of the thickness coating my throat. If this was July I’d be dying for this holiday beverage which gives me a good idea for a summer job. I will be the summertime egg nog king. Jewish Christmas weekend : day five and six This weekend was of course the Jewish Christmas weekend, specifically days five and six of this glorious eight day week. I wish I could say I went spelunking, but I don’t know what that is and I doubt it has very much to do with the holiday. Now, I did do a lot of things, thousands of things, but I don’t think it does the weekend justice to try and describe them all and only give each event a sentence or two. Instead, I will describe one brief moment from my weekend in excruciating detail. On day six of the Jewish Holiday I was in a convenience store. A convenience store is a place full of shelves filled with food and cold boxes full of more food, only this food is cold or frozen which is fine if you like that sort of thing. They also have gum. A convenience store really has everything I would ever need. It makes my life enjoyable to live. The only criticism is the price. If it were up to me and I wanted to have a store be as convenient as possible I would make it so all the food was free. Paying for food was the only hassle I ran into when I was at this particular convenience store. While in the aisle of the convenience store where the chips are stocked, I heard a man say that he wanted to move to Hawaii. “Yep, I was all ready to move there. I had given my boots away and everything.” “Why did you want to move?” the man’s friend asked. “To get the hell out of this place,” said this former Hawaii bound man. I liked this place, this convenience store; I did not want to leave. The muffin. A few minutes later I was walking down the candy aisle and then I saw the muffin. “Hello Muffin.” “It didn’t reply,” said the muffin. “Huh?” That was a brief moment from my Jewish Christmas weekend. -day seven- Today I did the thigh master for twenty minutes. I had eaten too much halvah the day before and wanted to burn off some of the Jewish candy from my soul. The only problem is that after my workout I ate twice as much halvah as I ate the day before. -day eight- As everyone knows the eighth day is the final day of the celebration of Jewish Christmas. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get out of bed. The thigh master had destroyed me the day before. My legs burned even when I wasn’t moving them. The halvah didn’t settle well in my stomach either. The holiday ended. I was burnt out. I hadn’t trained enough. Next year would be different. I would make it the eight days. There would be no entire days spent in bed especially not on the last day. No, I plan to take the world by storm next year. I also plan to incorporate a little diversity into the holiday: Indoor fireworks (these are the same as outdoor fireworks only they are only fired indoors) Ninja stars of David Every night dinner will be eaten off the back of a pony. Matzo chocolate cake. review by Mark Baumer