The Cullen Claus

'twas twilight before Christmas, and all through my house
Cullen creatures were stirring, including my spouse.
The strong traps were set by the chimney with care,
Oh, those sweet smelling rodents did not have a prayer.

We were sipping our cocktails of varying reds,
Watching fat tasty children outside on their sleds.
With Alice a'wrapping, and me on Edwards lap,
Poor Emmet was listening to Rosalie yap.

When from inside the kitchen, there arose such a clatter,
Esme dropped her mixing bowl full of blood-cookie batter!
I jumped from my seat when I heard the loud crash,
And we saw Santa running 'cross the yard in a flash!

We all heard him yelling, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
And we saw Jasper chasing, with his eyes all aglow.
Then what to our hungry dark eyes do appear,
But eight savory prey in the form of reindeer!

With such a young vampire, so weak and so quick,
I was sure this would be the end of St. Nick!
He was sure to catch him, he had laid his claim,
To lose good old Santa would be such a shame!

Help Alice! Help Esme! Help Carlisle, I called!
Help Emmet! Help Roaslie! Help Edward, I bawled!
We must catch him quickly, we don't have much time!
Then up to the chimney I saw Santa climb.

Suddenly in a twinkling, he fell though the roof!
I had never met Santa, but now I had proof!
He hit the ground running, with a heart that did pound,
And suddenly vampires were circling around!

He was pale and shaking from his head to his foot,
When I suddenly yelled out, YOU BETTER STAY PUT!
Jasper was still hunting his Christmas Eve snack,
When the house filled with howls from an angry wolf pack!

Poor Santa just stood there, his fortune quite scary,
I was so sure this Christmas would soon lose it's Merry!
His poor little mouth was turned into a frown,
And werewolves were hoping for a Holiday showdown!

The dogs kept their distance, we thought them quite smelly,
And the jolly old round guy tried to suck in his belly!
He thought looking trimmer could ward off the teeth,
Then the Cullens trapped Jasper, in the shape of a wreath!

Santa was chubby, and smelled so good, he did!
I was thankful his reindeer had ran off and hid.
This could not be happening, it must be all in my head,
Then I heard Jasper whisper, you have nothing to dread.

I'll try to control it, this weird little quirk,
Even I know that Santa has important work!
And then with two fingers he held his nose closed,
Edward scooped up St. Nick, and he instantly froze!

Outside he took him, and put him into his sleigh,
He said, this Christmas you're lucky, now hurry away!
We watched as the wolves ran off into the night,
And we heard Santa chuckle as he flew out of sight,

Merry Christmas to all! Now it's MY turn to bite!

Where mah ZETA's at??!

I have a new best friend.

And, because I know my (publicly pledged stalkers and anonymous pawns) perusers are undeniably sanguine, I didn't bring you any lotion-filled Kleenex. I know your feelings won't be hurt.

I'm a big believer in friend sharing, and I know you'll approve of this one.

Perusers, meet (Anna Faris) "Shelley" from "House Bunny." She's going to be our new (house) blog mother.

Shelley: "My name is Shelley and I am here to be your house (blog) mother."

Michelle: "This is Ben."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Ben."
Michelle: "And then Christa, and Renee."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Chris-ta, Rhe-nae"
Jeremy: "What is that?"
Shelley: "It's just this thing I do to remember peoples names."
Michelle: "Shelley, that's Jeremy."
Shelley: nods head [in a deep voice] "Jer-e-my."

Karyn: "You are the exorcist, that's great!"

Michelle: "This is Emily, and she's Amanda."
Shelley: [in a deep voice] "Em-a-lee, Ah-man-dah"

(She already knows Tony and Russ, no need for an introduction.)

Michelle: "Guys, Shelley is awesome. She's fun, affectionate, and kind (Shelley defines kind as love with its work boots on)."

Shelley: "We're going to have some amazing parties, learn all kinds of "'things and stuff,'" and do yoga on the lawn every morning!"

Michelle: "We only have one problem: We need 30 new pledges (followers in blogspeak) by December 25th or they (I have no idea who the hell "they" are) are going to take away our house! We can't let that happen. [pouting] I kind of like our screen door."

Shelley suggested we attract some attention with a car wash.



Who's in!??

Maybe it IS Rocket Science...

Unfortunately, I don't give refunds. See, these little tidbits of literary candy are free, so upon your (stunning) possible dissatisfaction, my only option is to try just that much harder to please you. Your apparent call for a "do-over" has been justly noted.

Here's my feeble attempt at a rebound.

I'm really not a man hater, and no, I don't think "you" includes the entire male population on planet earth, or elsewhere. I simply shove my opinion down your eager little throats as requested. Aren't I kind?

Conversely, I find your company quite pleasing, so much so in fact, that I have a robust tendency to prefer your company over the company of most women (yes, I said most, and no, ladies, I won't respond to catty -- hiss hiss -- comments). Capiche?

My respect for you grows as your expectation continues to rise, and with that being said, I'm flipping the coin. As a friend of mine would say, "this one's for the ladies."

Guys, I'm profoundly aware of the recondite annoyance of women. I've been overheard on more than one occasion stating the obvious -- "I'm glad I'm female, because had I entered this life as a man, women would drive me crazy."

Most of us have no idea what we want, and we expect you to not only know, but to also provide us with such to our in⋅du⋅bi⋅ta⋅ble satisfaction.

Yes, that's crazy, and no, I don't blame you for the collective eye-rolls and side-stepping of our oh-so-barmy company.

I'm actually quite happy that Edward, and his leviathan affect on the multi-generational female psyche, finally exists.

Why, you ask? Well, it's quite simple. You may be thinking I'm going to say it's because you finally have a realistic idea of what women really want (nix the pseudo-vampire persona). Well, here's where my coin flip applies.

I'm fractionally giggly, because while women are swooning like tabbies in heat, they still have no idea why. I find that peculiar. I'm sure you do too.

Here's the gist. You really do have a point.

Ladies, put your claws back in. Edward is awkward, skinny (skinny = sexy in my assessment, but disregard that groundless comment), and pale. He is a *tad* overwhelming, and if he were your common boy next door, you'd likely think him a weirdo.

In real, bona fide, card-carrying life, you'd completely ignore him -- even if he tried to give you money (and don't hit me with the "'it all depends how much'" line, because I'm not buyin' it, and if you do, you're not only idiosyncratic, but also a hooker). Where do all of you think this leaves the real guys? Your harebrained sanctions for "normal" behavior are of your own construction, and well, my heartfelt congratulations to you, because you've outdone the guys.

I won't put my "Michelle's Top Ten Reasons (insert female persona here) is Better Than All the Other Erratic Women Out There" into action until (and if) I get a *qualified nominee.

Until then, I'll summarize just for the sake of clarity. You women are swooning because you are confused (shocking, I know). You've packed up all your neat little garments made of 100% pure expectation and you're planning to move to vampire-island, where bountiful disappointment awaits (alongside your orders of pretty, yummy drinks), because your blood-sucking love interest is sure to be sleeping in the dog house within seventy-two hours of your arrival.

It's true, shut up.

He'll come to sweep you up into the magical trees, and your warm, little, welcoming self will kindly provide him with a gratudial verbal tirade (that would chase him right back to Italy, into the welcoming arms of the Volturi), because either A) You don't like to be treated that way, or B) He didn't anticipate the fact that you were in the "mood" for a quiet, sullen evening with a salad and a spritzer.

I know! The absolute nerve of some people.



*Qualified in this case consists of a female character, bound by the same tantamount (look it up) standards as "our" dreamy, muddle-haired Edward.

Bring "her" on, I'm all over this one.