Patton Lee Beaugus | November 26, 2010 1:45 am
Once upon a Christmas, a derelict blogger fell thru a crack in the Twilight Zone to encounter a PartyMob who wanted to hijack the holiday
.
I am Patton Lee Beaugus. Paddy is what my friends would call me if I had any.
Every day from now until Christmas I intend to share the adventures of an evening I spent with the Christmas Partymob. I'll blog it in prose, pictures, and song — in a new art form that shall be hereafter known across 16 dimensions as a Beaugus Blogsical. Well, maybe it will!
Each blog will chronicle story of my next Christmas Eve with the Christmas PartyMob. Yes, Virginia, I mean the next Christmas Eve — about month from now unless you are still a kid in which case Christmas is coming somewhere near the end of time.
Because of a dimensional time rift caused by an unintended side effect of string-theory and the escape of a Clydesdale from the Budweiser Beer Wagon, I am able to write this Beaugus Bloggus Opus before it happens. I will climax it just as a tired Santa is making his last stop for a well deserved nightcap.
Many of these daily blogs will include songs. A few will be original seasonal efforts. A few will be real Christmas carols. And a few will be parody rip-offs — which is what the PartyMob is all about — ripping off things like Christmas songs.
Although they look cute and cartoony, the Buddabings PartyMob are the kind of really evil people who as you can see from the photo above, they drink and drive. They don't even wear seatbelts when flying in a snowstorm. These baddies will even download songs on the internet without paying Sony Music a nickel. Yes, they are ba-a-a-a-d.
BTW: In case you were wait-listed on your application to get into MENSA, this is not a Christmas Kiddie Story, not even for nasty little knee-biters who secretly watch "South Park" in order to improve their vocabulary. This story is for grownups, albeit grownups who still think like thirteen year olds.
So 'tis the season to throw away your Advent Calendar. Take out your vintage Santa magnets and stick printouts of this new Christmas classic on your refridgerator door. Stick the pages next to all those cute Christmas cards with photos of chubby little kinder who may never see Santa Claus again.
I am Patton Lee Beaugus. Paddy is what my friends would call me if I had any.Every day from now until Christmas I intend to share the adventures of an evening I spent with the Christmas Partymob. I'll blog it in prose, pictures, and song — in a new art form that shall be hereafter known across 16 dimensions as a Beaugus Blogsical. Well, maybe it will!
Each blog will chronicle story of my next Christmas Eve with the Christmas PartyMob. Yes, Virginia, I mean the next Christmas Eve — about month from now unless you are still a kid in which case Christmas is coming somewhere near the end of time.
Because of a dimensional time rift caused by an unintended side effect of string-theory and the escape of a Clydesdale from the Budweiser Beer Wagon, I am able to write this Beaugus Bloggus Opus before it happens. I will climax it just as a tired Santa is making his last stop for a well deserved nightcap.
Many of these daily blogs will include songs. A few will be original seasonal efforts. A few will be real Christmas carols. And a few will be parody rip-offs — which is what the PartyMob is all about — ripping off things like Christmas songs.
Although they look cute and cartoony, the Buddabings PartyMob are the kind of really evil people who as you can see from the photo above, they drink and drive. They don't even wear seatbelts when flying in a snowstorm. These baddies will even download songs on the internet without paying Sony Music a nickel. Yes, they are ba-a-a-a-d.
This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
BTW: In case you were wait-listed on your application to get into MENSA, this is not a Christmas Kiddie Story, not even for nasty little knee-biters who secretly watch "South Park" in order to improve their vocabulary. This story is for grownups, albeit grownups who still think like thirteen year olds.
So 'tis the season to throw away your Advent Calendar. Take out your vintage Santa magnets and stick printouts of this new Christmas classic on your refridgerator door. Stick the pages next to all those cute Christmas cards with photos of chubby little kinder who may never see Santa Claus again.
Next: Home For The Holidays (in a Hell's Kitchen dive bar)
