Humping reindeer and silly romantics

For the third year in a row, some demented little soul out there thinks it's knee-slappin' hysterical to put our decorative Christmas reindeer in compromising positions.

Okay, I have to admit laughing the first time I pulled into the driveway and witnessed the reindeer and their unabashed passion on display for the whole neighborhood. Get a room...er, stall, you two.

However, when their antics actually busted one of the reindeer, it quit being funny. And when I pulled up and actually caught them in the act, it quit being funny. The car I saw matched that of a horrible (more accurately, whore-able) woman who vehemently hates a member of my family. She didn't dare to come back again last year.

She came back tonight. Christmas Eve Eve. We have a new reindeer and I don't want it broken, too. She got caught again, though. My dad saw her and the car is different, but the person is the same. He scared her off.

All I have to say is, how old are we??

---------------------------------------

I just finished watching "Little Women." The old one with June Allison and Elizabeth Taylor. Jo was so right -- the brainiac Professor is soooo much better than the silly boy. The ending scene always gets me....

Rain pouring down on the two huddled under the umbrella. It soaks into her dress, drips from his coat.

"I have nothing to offer, but these empty hands."
She grasps his outstretched hand with her own. "They're not empty anymore."

Gets me. Every. Single. Time.

Now, there's a sweet, World-War-II-propoganda-filled oldie on, with Claudette Colbert. (Does anyone remember her anymore? Besides me?) Anyhow, I'll probably watch it, too. I adore those drippy films.

So, I'm spending the wee hours of my Christmas Eve with sweet old movies instead of sleeping. Why? Because I'm listening for reindeer pornographers sneaking around my front yard.