Let's clean out s'more of my Christmas candy stock, before I get stuck having to look at it till April. Up above: "Holiday M&M's." Not the usual "Holiday M&M's," mind you. Those are nice, and yes, a bowl of purely red and green chocolate candies was a staple during Christmas seasons of my youth, but these are way souped-up. Snow white M&M's...with holiday sayings printed on each piece! I'm reminded of all those Valentine's Day heart candies -- the ones with printed-on sayings few can actually read. Likewise, only around 50% of these M&M's greetings are actually legible; the rest are either smudged, printed too lightly, or too completely in my stomach to read. It's the thought that counts, and for what it's worth, albino M&M's are kinda cool. Similarly, Reese's Pieces joins the fray with their own holiday assortment. I much prefer these things to M&M's, and only in part because of the E.T. ties -- they just taste better. Plus, they're just a wee bit softer, and thus much easier to crush down using your tongue and the roof of your mouth as a makeshift compactor. These traits are never mentioned in test surveys and whatnot, but it's not like everyone doesn't do it. Half the fun with candy is the method in which you dismantle it, and for my money, it's a lot more fun to kill a Reese's than it is to kill an M&M. Girl you know it's true. Depending on your point of view, Reese's had finally given either Christmas or Italy its comeuppance. Here's a batch of "Santa's Coal" bubble gum. Generic, sort of. It's a timeless novelty, in that nobody's ever considered it all that funny, yet there it is, year after year, peddling its black rock gum. Obviously, the sack is worth far more than the candy contained within. Festive change purses are criminally hard to come by, even if you scour the cashier-side impulse tables at Macy's. You can find candles shaped like reindeer and "Noel" broaches containing every semiprecious stone imaginable, but nope -- no festive change purses. Thank you Santa's Coal. The gum sucks, but isn't without merit. If you fill your cheeks with it (think hamster), you're enabled to turn your entire head into an almost harmless machine gun, capable of firing hundreds of blackened gum bullets at any and all would-be oppressors. It's what Christmas is all about. - Matt (12/20/03)	I was happy to see that many of our favorite Christmas specials were actually run on network television this year -- factor in some of the lesser-known but still memorable specials plastered all over cable, and couch potatoes have enjoyed one Hell of a holiday month. Still, seeing these specials didn't feel quite the same without the short bumper seen above. That was an integral part of the process for me -- CBS' "Special" bumper. It's nothing much, really. Just a twirling "Special" with some funky music that clued you in about the upcoming program. When you saw that bumper, you knew something awesome was about to come on television. It got your blood flowing. It made you sit up and take notice. It gave you a justifiable reason to watch CBS. I have no idea how many of you remember it, but that silly bumper meant almost as much to me as the Charlie Brown and Garfield cartoons that followed it. The classic bumper's gone the way of the Dodo, at least in my city. Just thought you'd like to see it again... Click here to watch the commercial! (click to enlarge) 12/20: A TOY CAR! Mare Winningham has taken over! With Christmas shaping up to be about as festive and jovial as having the skin of your ass stapled to a tree, Mare continues her March of Torment. Mista Snowman seems to be nothing more than a memory; his liquid remains bottled up like some misguided, morbid urn. Even Mark fell victim to his sister's wrath: in his despondence, Mare and Mysterious Boy quickly tied him up and left Mark for dead on Playmobil's green bench. As the path of destruction grows, all we can do is wait it out and pray for a miracle. The gift for December 20th? A remote-controlled car. Mare let Mysterious Boy play with it, feeling generous in her victory, but still laying out the mandate that he must use the car to perpetually run over her brother. Mark, with toy car tire marks all over his face, silently fights the tears and begs God for salvation. Mark: You can't keep me tied up forever, you know. Mare: I know. Mark: So what do you plan to do, then? As soon as I'm free from these ropes, you're going to pay for this. Mare: Nah. When I get bored of looking at you all tied up, we'll just kill you. Since Mysterious Boy forgot to buy a ham, we'll probably cook your remains for Christmas. Mark: LET ME GO! Mare: Okay, I'll be a good sport. If you can answer this question, I'll let you go... What was the name of the bounty hunter Han Solo shot in the Star Wars cantina? Mark: Greedo! Mare: Sorry, the correct answer is "who gives a shit, fanboy?" Hope those ropes ain't cutting off your circulation. Off in the distance, two of Playmobil's forgotten children look on. Pauly Pooch and Bird the Crow. Let's just hope they're mapping out something more grandiose than their next spots to shit... Pauly? Bird? Help us. Save us. TO BE CONTINUED!!!