Without holiday there is no happy. Without happy there is no holiday. And yet, there is always fruitcake.

In the fortieth month of the Donkey’s Last Bray, you shall walk with a cane. On that cane, stripes, and within, a delightful peppermint chill!

The vanquishing of fear is the beginning of strong. But woe to even the most heroic of men when they encounter the Spectacle of the Spectacled Worm!

And they lit the candles and wrapped them with fine linens. And as they slumbered, they woke to the cries of The Great Alarm. That was stupid.

There is coming soon the weeping of reindeer, for behold: the Steed flies faster… and it blazes!

In the moment of the pie, you will ask yourself: why do I exist? And Kuhu shall speak: lemon meringue!

Blog Ride Editor’s Note: Want to know what the future holds for you? Add a comment. Kuhu shall speak again.