I am screaming and punching myself

It's the most wonderful time of the year

I don't know about y'all, but this is why I have pets.

The furballs of Festivus

As part of my ongoing celebration of all that is joyous, sick and wrong about the holiday season, let me introduce you to the Jingle Cats. You've probably heard their canine counterparts barking out "Jingle Bells" on the radio during at least one holiday season. But to my mind, the cat contingent far outstrips the Jingle Dogs in terms of horrifying listening because the meow has a more expressive range than the bark. Whereas the bark is an explosion of air, the meow is more of a vocalization, so it can -- sweet hanging neuticles, I'm actually writing about critter vocal tendencies as they apply to the freaking Jingle Cats.

Never mind the how and wherefore. Trust me. They're more fun than the Jingle Dogs because they're so much worse.

Santaphobia!

Before you know it, the holiday season will be upon us like a hungry puma, so let's try to get a little enjoyment out of it now, while we can still stand to hear sleighbells without becoming homicidal.

The Chicago Tribune, in an utterly genius move, asked its readers to send in their photos of terrifying moments involving an allegedly "right jolly old elf." More than 100 people in the Chicago area alone had photographic evidence of the phenomenon I have dubbed Santaphobia. And when you think about it, it makes sense: all the terror of a clown, plus you have to sit on his lap and whisper in his ear. Yeesh.

(Photo from Chicago Tribune site, submitted by reader Judi Hennessy.)