Hanukkah Harry: The Mensch. The Myth. The Meshugenah.

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YoYo-Dyne receives hundreds of thousands of search hits each December from folks spread across the globe. All looking for more information on that icon of Chutzpah, Hanukkah Harry.

Mr. Harry agreed to an interview and we are honored to present you with this historic discussion.

Miss R: Welcome Hanukkah! Can I call you Hanukkah?
HH: Thank you Miss R. It’s a pleasure to be here. For you, Hanukkah is just fine. Hanukkah Harry knows who’s been naughty or nice. Your naughtiness always makes up for your flaw in being only half a Hebe.
Miss R: Oh, thank you Hanukkah. You’re eyeing the tasty treats I’ve made. Care for one?
HH: Ummmm what are they? Almost looks like rugelach.
Miss R: It’s my own creation: Shiksa Cakes. I just used stale white bread to make the pastry and the filling is made with nuts, dates and mayonnaise. All Kosher!
HH: Going to pass on those but I applaud you. Remember the year you left out lobster rolls on the first night? It still saddens me to think that instead of socks I was forced to leave a lump of Plutonium-240.
Miss R: Not to worry Hanukkah, I sold it to a certain country in the Middle East and made a tidy profit.
HH: That’s my girl!

Miss R: Let’s move on to some questions. First, why did you wait until the late 1980’s to reveal yourself?
HH: It seemed the right time. Jon Lovitz approached me and I gave my blessing. What a funny boychik! He pissed me off though and I had to cancel his subscription to Funny B List Actors.
Miss R: What would you buy for yourself to celebrate the holidays?
HH: I’d buy time, and I’d get it wholesale. I like to call it a time off for good behavior deal.
Miss R: Who do you consider the sexiest woman in the world?
HH: That’s an easy one, not that your latkes don’t bring all the boys to the yard. It’s Mrs. Claus of course. Have you seen her lately? Hasn’t aged in a millennium! Got her looks from her father, a plastic surgeon.
Miss R: I see you wear your hair in the traditional Orthodox manner. A lot of our readers want to know why you haven’t kept up with the times.
HH: Are you kidding me? No way can I survive without these curly locks, and bagels.
Miss R: You’ve previously saved Christmas and proved yourself a friend to Goy and Jew alike. Are you still proud of this accomplishment?
HH: Proud? I get verklempt each time someone mentions it. Fred Phelps spontaneously combusting couldn’t please me more.

Miss R: We’re about out of time. From myself and all of the Lectoids here at YoYo-Dyne, here’s to a Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas. Any last thoughts?
HH: Miss R I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening, and this wasn’t it. Just quote me as saying I was mis-quoted. Zey gezunt!

That’s all for tonight. Join us next week for our exclusive interview with the Baby Jesus.
Was bacon really the contributing factor in establishing his new religion?

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~Miss R

SECRETS REVEALED: The Truth behind Santa and Hanukkah Harry

First, little miss heart-as-black-as-onyx-cold-as-ice (No Styx references or I will find you and kill you) broke down and bought a Christmas turkey today. It’s only me this year (Half-A-Hebe aka my daughter, won’t be here until New Years) so that’s pretty retarded.

Note to Mensa: membership card in the mail

Also picked up cranberries from the produce section, extra butter, Mrs.Cubbisons bread cubes for stuffing, mushrooms, etc. Naturally when checking out of the store I realized the goddamned turkey was FRESH not frozen.

Good thing Hanukkah Harry comes on the 21st… Sorry Santa: no soup for you.

On the bright side I can drink champagne this Christmas Eve and not worry about the hideous Christmas morning hangover which normally throws me into heaves while slicing onions and gutting a large bird at 7:00 am Christmas morning.

I said Christmas turkey as opposed to holiday turkey. Sure, it’s not like we ate ham at Grandma Anna’s at Hanukkah, but still the turkey is considered a noble Christmas tradition.  Honestly I don’t care if you wish me Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Crazy Kwanzaa, Cool Yule or a Festive Festivus (you wouldn’t BELIEVE how great my stripper pole looks with the tinsel). It’s the time of year when we wish for magic and snow. Or in my case, growing up in Los Angeles, rain.

Seriously. Kids actually pray for RAIN on Christmas in SoCal. It’s actual weather.

Lucky Ex-Husband Number One is from Brooklyn. He couldn’t figure out how the hell kids could believe in Santa’s sleigh when there wasn’t any snow. Ever.

Of course he is Jewish, and I explained to him that keeping an oil lamp going for 8 days and nights in the middle of a barren desert pretty much fell into the same category.

Okay back to the topic: So you wanna kill your in-laws this happy holiday season!

No. That’s next week’s post.

 It’s ….Santa and Hanukkah Harry!

I got good news and bad news.

Hanukkah Harry DOES exist, as does Santa. True.

Santa brings a plethora (which is slightly more than a buttload) of gifts on one night. My friend Liqourstore Bear thinks that Santa isn’t real, but has his doubts. After all, how could our parents –constantly whining about upside-down mortgages, collection calls and no you can’t have that cereal it’s $4.99 a box- possibly provide gifts, wrapping paper, and batteries not to mention keep all of those goodies hidden from us?

As always the doubts stem from some jerk-ass kid at school whose parents are Jehovah Witness and don’t even celebrate the poor little bastard’s birthday, nevermind Christmas.

However, you will note that the stockings ARE stuffed by the chimney with care on Christmas morning.

As for Hanukkah yes we receive eight crazy nights of gifts. The problem is that we get the same shit that the Christian kids do. One night is socks, one underwear, etc, etc and hopefully on the final night you get what you REALLY wanted.

Don’t forget that one night you get gelt (the little chocolate coins) to use with your dreidal. No coincidence that gelt (for you goyim it’s Yiddish for money) sounds so much like guilt.

Don’t ask me how I know this.

So, the bottom line is this: kids get gifts at the holidays. It’s the HOLIDAY LAW. Doesn’t matter how broke your parents or grandparents (thanks for the socks grandma) are.

Logic follows (however non-linear) that Santa and Hanukkah Harry DO exist.

All you have to do is Believe…. And always use MasterCard.

~Miss R

p.s. Mom actually purchased the holiday meal. She doesn’t know yet. I have no money nor matchsticks to sell. And yes, I did use her Mastercard.