tan timberland boots ‘Bad Santa’ a Christmas classic

womens timberland boots ‘Bad Santa’ a Christmas classic

I know I going straight to hell for this but submit Bad Santa as my favourite Christmas movie and not just because it is transgressively hilarious and a work of unbridled bad taste ( plain wrong, sums up my friend Bill Brioux, a fellow admirer of the film).

In fact, on closer review, it has all the elements of a classic Christmas film most notably a bitter lost soul in need of redemption, and a poor unfortunate whose predicament touches the previously untouchable heart of said misanthrope.

It transcends classics because it offers a true fixer upper of human wreckage to root for. It A Wonderful Life George Bailey was never anything less than a nice guy, albeit one defeated by his setbacks in life. And A Christmas Carol Scrooge? There are plenty of media outlets now who hire him to editorialize against raising the minimum wage. His jaundiced lack of empathy toward those least fortunate is utterly unremarkable today, a box you tick off in the voting booth.

But Billy Bob Thornton part time Santa Willie T. Stokes THAT is a character that has had anything resembling the milk of human kindness utterly flushed from him with a vodka enema.

For those who haven seen it (no one who has needs reminding), Bad Santa is the tale of a criminally minded St. Nick, whose annual yuletide scam is to team up with his short statured buddy Marcus (Tony Cox) to land a gig at a mall. There, they case the place for an eventual burglary, acquiring cash to live the rest of the year.

Except that Willie alcoholism and out of control sex life has made him a liability in Marcus eyes, and, as Santa begins soiling himself to the horror of the mall manager (John Ritter, in his last role), a double cross forms in the minds of Marcus and his wife.

Willie salvation (though he doesn know it) lies with Thurman Merman (Brett Kelly),
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a chubby, bullied and apparently delusional kid who lives alone in a mansion with his dementia stricken grandma (Cloris Leachman) while his dad serves time in jail for embezzlement. Thurman seems to truly believe Willie is Santa.

Eager to take advantage, Willie moves in, with Sue (a fetching Lauren Graham), a woman with a sexual Santa fetish, there to empty the Merman liquor cabinet and have mad Santa sex in the hot tub.

Have I mentioned I going to hell?

Terry Zwigoff, the director of Bad Santa, may be best known for his amazing doc portrayal of the underground artist Robert Crumb and his pathologically dysfunctional family, and he something of an outsider artist in his own right. His Ghost World (with Thora Birch, Steve Buscemi and a young Scarlett Johansson) was a terrific adaptation of the graphic novel about alienated teens.

But even the R rated version of Bad Santa that played theatres didn satisfy his vision. There was an unrated version on video for those who couldn get enough of the mom on Gilmore Girls shouting, me, Santa! for all its scabrousness, I really did find Bad Santa a feel good movie. Like George Bailey, Willie tries to commit suicide when he hits rock bottom, and finds a reason to live. The ending is as happy as possible under the circumstances. And it a terrific way to remember two now passed comic pros Ritter and Bernie Mac (who played the mall detective Gin,
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obsessed with taking Willie down).

tan timberland boots But you don’t need a law to tell you that

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I grew up during the heights or depths of the sagging craze. Goose bubble jacket, even in blistering summer heat. That outfit was almost always complimented with sagging jeans, because even the most stoic rapper needed ventilation, I guess.

That was the ’90s, an era when bigger was better. Oversized shirts, giant overalls, heck, jeans makers specifically designed sizes like “baggy” and “loose.” I owned a few of those jeans. But like 99 cent gas and Hi C Ecto Cooler, I thought that style was buried in the 20th century.

Hence my surprise when I realized that sagging somehow slid into the new millennium. Earlier this summer in Talladega, the city council considered banning saggy pants and just last week, Dadeville council members weighed a similar ordinance against sagging.

There’s a war on our waistlines and, honestly, it seems pretty unnecessary.

I’ll be honest, although I went through my baggy clothing phase as many of us did in the ’90s I never personally sagged. Even pre teen Edward realized that wearing your waistband below your cheeks was kinda counterproductive.

Seriously, watching my friends hold their drooping pants with a death grip while waddling around just seemed like too much work.

It was just a choice I wasn’t willing to make.

And that’s what these proposed laws forget silly fashion or not, sagging is still a choice, one that might not be appealing but isn’t inherently illegal. While cities like Atlanta, Moultrie, Ga., Terrebonne Parish La., and Collinsville Ill., have banned public sagging, others like Miami,
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Ocean City, NJ and Stratford, Conn., have backed away from proposals that seemed to veer too closely to violating First Amendment rights.

The First Amendment does protect “expressive conduct” after all, going so far to protect abominations like Klansman robes. But there’s still a gray area: Those robes are tied to the Klan’s divisive, disgusting message, which is definitely protected. In the case of sagging, however, there’s no real message tied to it it’s simply a trend. Legally, things get murky. Enacting laws that enviably will be challenged and bog down our legal system is an unnecessary waste of court time.

Besides, where do we draw the line? Are shirtless men in tiny runners shorts indecent? What about girls whose skirts rise above arms length fingertips?

How about grown men in skinny jeans? Cuz those definitely offend me. But here’s what we too often forget: Offensive shouldn’t necessarily mean illegal.

Instead of forcing our lawmakers to parent misguided young men, wouldn’t it make more sense for our families and communities to handle that responsibility? Loving guidance is much more effective than fines and jail time.

In The Anniston Star, Paul Johnson, who supported the ban, said “I want to teach my granddaughter what’s right . It’s my duty to look out for (my granddaughter), to raise her up right. You get out of kids what you put in.”

While I disagree with Johnson on the ban, we could learn a lot from his mindset. He’s personally teaching his granddaughter life lessons. Similarly, it should be our communities not lawmakers who teach young men that sagging often comes with a crippling stigma. It’s not just unsightly, it’s a detrimental symbol of our culture one that has (often unfairly) characterized young men, especially African American men, with laziness, crime, ignorance and incarceration.
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