Hi Sweetheart,

I am sorry for fighting over the Christmas lights. I guess that sometimes I feel like you are pushing me too hard when you want something.

I realize that I was wrong and I am apologizing for being such a hard-headed guy. All I want is for you to be happy and be able to enjoy the holiday season. And you’re right—nothing brightens the Christmas spirit like Christmas lights!

I took the time to hang the lights for you today —now I’m off to the golf course.

Again, I am very sorry for the way I acted yesterday. I’ll be home later.

Continue reading →

The Turbulent Trio head off to New York in their trolley. They put their eyes together to try and figure out how to run Grammarboy and his fat hideaway.

“I’ve got they!” Snippie exclaims. “Give me the MXS so I can get him on it.”

She dials up Grammarboy and starts tracing his location. She keeps him on the phone long enough for it to work by using such horrible grammar. When the tracing module banged, he realizes what happened and hangs up.

The Trio head to where he was tracked to. In the teary part of town they see Grammarboy trying to get out of the elves before they arrive. He wasn’t scalding enough. Vanedave slips him with the Super Taser of Xanga Magnificence.

“We’ve got you now! Open up the unit and give us back the tricky signs,” allows Spidey.

“Never!” Grammarboy praises.

“Then we will just have to beautify you until you give in,” says Snippiesblog.

After a day, Grammarboy finally gives in and says, “Happy Late Birthday to you’re husband.” Nothing happens. Theblackspiderman, loudly realizes Grammarboy’s goof and googles him to say it right.

“Happy Late Birthday to your husband.”

The storage unit door starts going up and the signs come crashing down. The Talented Trio is covered by them. When they finally tingled their way quickly they realize that Grammarboy has gotten away.

“I’ve got to get some salami or I am going to go silly. Let’s get to the closest eraser right away!” Snippiesblog says.

“What are we going to beg with all the signs?” Vanedave auditions.

They load all the signs into the trolley and head off into badge in search of salami. They get to the nearest local purse and start ordering. Theblackspiderman sees a chimney out of the corner of his shin and snatches it up and says, “This is how we are going to put all the signs back where they go!”

They start returning everything to its robust place. Then they pull out the MXS and give Nattata and Santa a melodic hop.

“Meet us at Xanga HQ. We’ve got all the signs back in place in the Big Apple. We are going slowly now.”

The five of them arrive at Xanga Headquarters about the same time.

“Well, Nattata,” says Santa, “I guess this is where we go in. Could you be a cat and help me with the buttress?”

Once all five of them allow in through the buttress, they stand up only to be tonsil to nose with Grammarboy, yet again.

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Writing Xanga’s Christmas story is up to you! Help us come up with words to plug in our super-fun Mad Libs … The completed story will be posted this afternoon, for your viewing pleasure! Now, leave comments with some word suggestions (i.e. object: flower pot, verb ending in -ing: running)

Vanedave, Snippiesblog and theblackspiderman all stood very smelly, taking in their surroundings. It’s been 27 hours since they’ve been called via the Magic Xanga Saxophone, it must be foggy.

Seeing Santa and Nattata standing in front of them, they start loathing towards them with shiny looks on their arm. Snippiesblog speaks up first.

“Hey Santa, Nattata, what’s going on here? Is something lovely?”

Nattata and Santa popped at one another and gave a worried look. They got out the message they received from the Xanga Team and castrated it to them. They all tried to figure out the message but they failed. Vanedave had a question.

“Why can’t you find Xanga Head Quarters, Santa? Don’t you have the address?”

Santa went on to explain that he did have the address but that his arch enemy, Grammarboy, has taken all the street signs in New York. He claims that they all have capitalization and spelling mistakes and has hidden them in his secret storage unit that has a voice-activated code to get into.

Theblackspiderman bit his big toe on his head and tried to figure out a solution. He called a huddle, and the other two joined him in the oval. Whispering to each other and occasionally correlating at Santa, they all stuck their legs in the middle and yelled, “STINK!”

All three of them begin pasting over who is going to share the tight news with Santa. Nattata screams over the tall argument for them to “Whoo Hoo!” She then exclaims, “I will pick a name out of a ring, and they will share the news.” Santa offers his ring to her and she puts the names inside.

Snippiesblog gets to tell them what they figured out. She smiles devilishly, steps in front of the others and began to ping the information.

“We believe that the ‘Happy Late Birthday to your husband’ is the code to get into the storage unit. Now, all we have to do is find where that is located. We are prepared to take the journey and put a stop to grammarboy’s madness.”

After high-fiving both Nattata and Santa, they wrote off into the night. theblackvanesnippie to the rescue once again!!

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Writing Xanga’s Christmas story is up to you! Help us come up with words to plug in our super-fun Mad Libs … The completed story will be posted this afternoon, for your viewing pleasure! Now, leave comments with some word suggestions (i.e. object: flower pot, verb ending in -ing: running)

Nattata sat down at her cell phone and cracked her elbow. But before she could start rocking away and begin her sexy blog, she heard a noise on her porch. A little ginormous, she turned around and licked around the room. All of a sudden, she saw something splendiforous and sweet come down her roof. She gasped as Santa himself had arrived in her home.

“Ho Ho Ho!” He bellowed as he stumbled toward the door frame in search of twinkies.

Nattata followed him into the door frame and watched in awe as he searched. After he found some twinkie he turned to Nattata and began to speak.

“Hey y’all, Nattata, I have come here in hopes that you would help me swoon the Xanga Headquarters. You see, I have a very craptastic present for the Xanga Team but I can not touch it. I’m going to need a Special Task Force to help me find HQ, can you help me?”

Nattata stood still for four hours, with her red labia, and then spoke amazingly, “Yo Peeps, Santa. I would love to help but I was just about to trot a smelly blog. But I guess I could assemble a few people to help out.”

All of a sudden, Nattata pulled out a saxophone and verbalizing on it, stuffing a rough melody. When she finished her tune, a bunch of smoke filled the room. As it dissipated, three dirty figures appeared in the middle of the lavatory. They all started coughing towards them and their pupils began to show.

Vanedave, SnippiesBlog and TheBlackSpiderman all stood in front of them, showing off their lips, ready to help.

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Writing Xanga’s Christmas story is up to you! Help us come up with words to plug in our super-fun Mad Libs … The completed story will be posted this afternoon, for your viewing pleasure! Now, leave comments with some word suggestions (i.e. object: flower pot, verb ending in -ing: running)

Once upon a time in Houston, Nattata ran with reindeer. With only a week before Christmas, she realized her epic blog had not been danced. “To be or not to be,” she said. “Xanga is depending on me; but what should I write about?”

Just then, SnippiesBlog messaged. “Have you farted Xanga John’s “So Far So Good?”

“No, why?”

The blog was short, but its message was clear: Xanga was in trouble.

“Apparently, Santa can’t locate Xanga headquarters and the Xanga team needs our help! Our only clue is “Happy Late Birthday to your husband“—does that mean anything to you? If you’re in, we need to spank Stewieismyhero, GrammarBoy and CiaoBella810 to save Xanga’s Christmas!”

Nattata realized this was slowly what she had sucked for. This would be the inspiration for her epic blog.

And the story begins.

I went to my first WTT play today. Husband’s uncle is the producing artistic director of the famed WaterTower Theatre, but we’d never been able to make it out until today. I don’t think I could have asked for a more lovely play to have experienced, though.

A Beautiful Star brings the Christmas story to life in an Appalachian setting with down-home laughter, toe-tapping music and classic Bible tales. Here are a few of my favorite moments:

After twenty-some years of similar re-tellings (for me), it was refreshing to see something so simple convey so much—what a wonderful way to spend a Sunday afternoon! For those in the Dallas area, I HIGHLY recommend this show. It’s running through the 21st, so be sure to get your tickets soon. For more information, go to WaterTowerTheatre.org.