With the holiday season approaching, I feel more and more obligated to share with you a secret. I have since now only told my girlfriend, and I must admit that I was both mortified and humiliated by her response. To me, it is but a genuine shout-out to the one guy who made my childhood kick ass. To her — well, I’ll quote her. “You’re a class act…a class act dumb ass. Get a freaking life. I’ll never reproduce with you,” she said.

I prefaced this secret with the confession that I one day wanted to have children. We had been together for two years, we have lots of sex, some times, and – yeah, I thought she would be cool with it. I told her that if we did decide to ever have kids that I wanted to name him or her Santa. My reasons are perfectly simple:

1. It works for all genders. If in the instance that I had a girl, I would simply name her Santa Maria Brady. Everybody loves Christopher Columbus (and his boats)… except the Indians… but who sees them anymore any way? In the instance that I had a boy, I would certainly be reasonable, and refrain from giving him “Claus” for a middle name. In fact, I would probably not give him a middle name at all. It just sounds better. Santa Brady. Yes.
2. The name Santa has no negative connotation whatsoever, and in the worst case scenario, fellow playmates will tease him because it will make them feel clever. I however will make sure my little Santa goes to school equipped with witty rebuttals and ways to make those children feel insecure.
3. I want people to forget about Jesus Christ.

I even wrote a song that I will sing to my baby Santa when he arrives. I have already made bids on the Filipino market.

(Song sung to the tune of Silent Night)

Baby Santa
Holy Santa
You’re so cute
And oh so holy
Sing in heavenly peace
Sing in heavenly peace

My girlfriend threw a piece of piping at me when I first sang that to her. I need a place to vent, though, you know? With the Christmas season approaching, I’m just like – really stressed out, and I’m in an abusive relationship. She hits me really hard and tells me things that just plain hurt. She has this huge list of things she wants me to start shopping for now, and it’s driving me utterly mad. Prada, Gucci, Patron Tequila… she’s just so hot, and I think our children would be so beautiful… I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t be talking about this kind of stuff here.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! Please donate money via Paypal to Cricketsoda, with the attachment “For Brandon.”

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