Every so often I'll be browsing Netflix with my wife and kid and happen across a movie I was fond of in my childhood. I always get excited and want to share the joy of the film my son and see what his reaction to it is, AKA, will this kid have some taste or am I raising a classless slob who wouldn't know a good movie if it slapped him in the face.
For the most part, he loves a lot of the same movies I did growing up, and when I watch the movies I'm usually stunned with how oblivious I was to how awful or brilliant they truly were (never in between), but also how incredibly twisted as well.
For example, All Dogs Go To Heaven is a scary movie for kids to watch and deals with a lot of adult themes, something that I only really picked up on when I began seeing clips of it now that I'm a responsible grown-up who pays rent and doesn't race shopping carts through the supermarket...most of the time.
So when Twitter user Hannah Priest started a thread about a deranged holiday movie that manages to hide how deranged it is to viewers, I was interested. Especially because it was a household favorite of my family's: The Santa Clause, starring Tim Allen.
You may say to yourself, "No way, this movie is fun for all ages! It's a holiday classic! It's got a great message!"
Well, that all may or may not be true, but it doesn't change the fact that The Santa Clause is absolutely bonkers...in an evil way. Check out Priest's reasoning here in this epic twitter thread.
Here's a little festive question for you... what is the most stone-cold brutal, horrific Christmas film ever made?— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
BLACK CHRISTMAS by far. CHRISTMAS EVIL a close second.— Craig Ian Mann (@craigimann) December 21, 2017
People gave their best guesses, but they were ultimately wrong.
Good guesses from everyone, but pull up a chair for a truly seasonal hot take. The most horrific Christmas film (or, rather, trilogy) is The Santa Clause. Oh yes.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
I'm not talking about what happens to Scott Calvin & his transformation into Santa. Or the fact that SCII belongs to the 'Santa Finds a Wife' subgenre, which is always creepy as hell.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
To recap, when Santa falls off his roof, Scott Calvin puts on his suit & instantly becomes the new Santa. It's all fun & frolics, and the elves explain that this is the Santa 'clause'.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
The creepiness begins early on, because the roof-Santa actually dies on screen (quite slowly) and that's the only reason Scott can take on the role.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
None of the elves at the North Pole mourn the dead Santa. Bernard just refers to him as 'the other Santa' and shrugs it off. They just cold-heartedly accept that roof-Santa is gone, and now they work with Scott.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
It's not just humans though. Elves disappear after hundreds of years, and NO ONE cares.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
In SCI, Judy says she's spent the last 1200 years perfecting her cocoa recipe. But she's no where to be seen in SCII. She's just casually replaced with another cocoa-maker & never mentioned again.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
It turns out that not just the first film, but the entire series is really, really messed up.
And let's take a minute to consider Bernard. He's a huge part of SCI & SCII, but he's just... absent in SCIII. Curtis is now 'Elf No. 1' & no one mentions Bernard.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
But this is far from the worst bit. Trust me, I've got so much more.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
In SCII, Curtis & Bernard discover the 'Missus Clause', which dictates that Santa must be married. They'd never heard of this before & the Council of Legendary Figures also know nothing about it.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
Curtis specifically says that he has been working with Santas for 900 years, and that this clause hasn't come to his attention before.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
The obvious (and chilling) implication of this is that ALL previous Santas were married at the point when they donned the suit & invoked the Santa Clause. (Or they lasted less than a year before dying/invoking the Escape Clause.)— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
It gets worse.
So... where are the wives?? Dear God, WHAT HAPPENS TO THE WIVES??— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
When roof-Santa dies, it's a matter of hours before Scott gets to the North Pole to take over. But there is no sign of recently-bereaved Mrs Claus. What happened to her??— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
In SCIII, we see the Hall of Snow Globes, which has 1 globe for every Santa. There's about 50-60 globes in there. That's 50-60 former Santas, who were presumably all married.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
60 Santas over the history of Christmas means that the average life expectancy for a Santa is just over 33 years. Some of them will have lived at the North Pole for much longer.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
And, as we find out from SCIII, Santas are fertile in this universe, so Buddy Claus may not have been the first baby to be born at the North Pole.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
So where are the babies? Where are the wives? There are potentially 60 women unaccounted for in this film series, and the elves never ever mention them.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
The horrible truth is finally revealed.
That's right, the North Pole may be full of a bunch of baby-eating cannibals.
Why would the elves need a massive oven? Santa delivers toys, not baked goods. Now think about how wryly the elves smile whenever someone comments on the flavour of their cocoa.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
The elves are clearly baking women (& possibly children) in their oven, then using the bodies to make ceremonial cocoa, which they then feed to future Santas.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
Well boiling people down and drinking them is still cannibalism, just of the drinking variety. You don't need to chew human flesh to be labeled a cannibal, OK??
And that, my friends, is why The Santa Clause is the most horrific Christmas film ever made.— Hannah Priest (@shewolfmanc) December 21, 2017
Well, I'm convinced. Are you??
We’ve all been there. You swipe right on Tinder, decide on a place to meet, and realize about five minutes in that leaving your house in the first place was a huge error. Maybe you feel like you’ve been catfished because they look nothing like their photos (surprise!), or perhaps you quickly realize they weren’t being sarcastic in their profile when they said their favorite band was The Beatles.
Whatever the case may be, there’s no flying spark to indicate this is the person of your dreams. And maybe you’re the mature kind of individual who can finish their drink, bring up the fact that you don’t see a future together, split the bill, and head your own separate ways. Bravo!
But what if you’re not? u/PM_Me_YourTinyBoobs kindly addressed this very question on Reddit when he asked what a person could say to instantly derail a date. The answers ranged from painfully incestuous to downright hilarious.
Next time you just need to shut it down really quickly and abruptly, these are some perfect lines you can use.
When I had my first drink, I didn't have much of a frame of reference, but I knew that a drink order says a lot about a person. So I chose wisely and just imitated whoever I thought was cool when I was growing up. And there's no one cooler than Clint Eastwood in any Western, ever.
So I ordered myself a whiskey. Neat. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't like the flavor. But I stuck with that drink every time I went out with my friends. I tried different types of whiskey and settled on Jameson. Why? Image. It was all image.
Although I don't really drink that much anymore, when I do, I let my best friend either make my drink or at least decide what I should be sippin' on (he's an amazing bartender), because I clearly have no idea what I'm doing. And he's probably doing me a solid by making me look like I'm somewhat cultured in front of other bartenders. Because, as I've learned in this AskReddit post, there are stereotypes associated with particular drinks and they can get pretty judgmental.
There are plenty of ways to troll a sleeping friend while on a road trip. My personal favorite is parking the car in front of a light pole or a wall, flashing your lights, and having everyone in the car at the same time scream their heads off as if you're all about to die.
That's one way to wake them up.
But Eria found a different approach to trolling her boyfriend, Scott, that had a much longer effect: she enlisted the help of the I'm Telling God Facebook group in roasting him mercilessly for his soporific ways. As a result, the 'Sleepy Scott' meme was born.