Tsushima

So, Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving) was this week, on Tuesday, and we had Monday through Wednesday off. Nice-uh. Most people were heading out of town, and my buddy Dave who hadn't left the country in the 6 months he's been here was itching to do the same. I would've been content to rest on my laurels and maybe go on a short day or two long trip within the country, but when he asked if I wanted to go to Fukuoka I said sure. I'd heard good things about it and it seemed we'd have a fun few days down there.

Another friend Oren joined us, and on Friday night we caught the midnight train* to Busan wherein we could take a ferry to Japan.

So we walked in to the international ferry terminal exhausted and groggy Saturday morning and tried to buy a ticket to Fukuoka. Sold out. What about tomorrow? Sold out. The next day? Sold out. I'd sort of expected this, Chuseok is the busiest travel time of the year in Korea, but I didn't want to be a Debbie Downer before we left and hadn't brought it up.

Despairing we collapsed on some benches in the terminal and slept a few hours. When we awoke, a few other ticket booths were open. One of them was for Tsushima. Well, if you've bothered to read the title of this entry you can probably figure out what happened.

It was alright. The town was a little on the small side, there was nothing to do during the day, things were more than a little pricey (honest to god the second you sit down in a bar they charge you 20-30 bucks for the table, even before you've bought a drink) and the 19-30 demographic upsayo (didn't exist). We had a good few nights out drinking, tho, everyone was superfriendly (the first place we went a bunch of Japanese ajosshis picked up the tab as we were leaving) and it was cool just to get away for a bit and add another notch on my belt.

But I won't be going back.

I managed to look goofy in every picture that was taken of me during our brief sojourn, and believe it or not the following is the least goofy looking and most publishable. Standing at the base of the hundred steps to enlightenment or somesuch nonsense (we climbed them and found only oversized hornets and a lot of moss):



*Ok, so we took a bus, but "midnight train" sounds so much cooler, and I've had that song 'Midnight Train to Georgia' in my head and on my iPod for about a month now.

Slightly Less Than 100 Bullets

My week, in bullet form:

-I visited the 3rd circle of hell, otherwise known as the Bukbu English Festival. "Bukbu" is the dong or gu or snot or flem or whatever the Korean word for district is in which my school is located. We took about a dozen or so of our best and brightest English speakers to compete against the other schools' similarly abled in a series of competitions...debate, essay writing, dancing, etc. It was the typical in its tedium, the worst part was that it took place on a Saturday. I don't like working on those.

-Speaking of tedium, two of our English teachers were leaving last week so we had a going away dinner. Imagine you're a young white devilishly handsome English-speaking male who's attending a 4 hour long dinner surrounded by 8 or so 40 year old Korean ajummas who despite their Korean Education Board-certified English speaking abilities persist in communicating in their native language. Imagine there isn't any alcohol being served. Imagine you have to pay 25 bucks for a dinner whose highlights include slices of tomatoes dipped in blueberry juice, undercooked un-de-headed prawns, and balls of fried squid. That was my Monday.

-I didn't go out this weekend, for the first time since I've been back. I was just too tired from work...I've been drinking too much anyway. I was up late Thursday at the Goose bidding farewell (again) to Sammy.

-I discovered this great performance by the man from the 2002 Grammys. As he said circa 1965, it should be played "fucking loud."

Uh, here's something

Well I don't really have anything interesting or new to report, but dammit I've got a blog, so I have to post something, right? So here's a video from a movie I love as much as everyone else hated it, Masked & Anonymous. Please enjoy.

PASSED AROUND OVER 1300X AND STILL GOING

No, I'm not talking about Courtney Love (rimshot). This is the title of a myspace bulletin thing I got the other day.

Now of late I've more or less eschewed myspace in lieu of facebook, where I just recently signed up and discovered that yes, the rumors are true, it's way better. But I still occasionally log in to, you know, waste time at work and check up on whose band's doing what.

I don't usually read the bulletin stuff, and god knows I've never contributed one myself (just FYI: the bulletin page is where you can send a message to all of your friends, the myspace equivalent of forwarding that picture of that d00d on top of WTC1 right before the plane crashed in) but the other day I was really, really bored. Like most days.

Anyhoo, my "friend" Daryn had posted something on the bulletin page (as he is wont to do - isn't it interesting how it's the same people posting on that thing over and over? Most of my friends avoid it, but there are like three guys who post two or three things a day. I can understand the bands posting their gigs' dates and whatnot, but do you really need to fill out every questionaire that comes your way or post all of the scores to every USA soccer match?). It was this:

PASSED AROUND OVER 1300X AND STILL GOING!!!

Body: YOU BETTER ADD YOUR NAME!!!!!JESUS DIED FOR OUR SINS.IF YOU ARENT ASHAMED TO CLAIM GODTHEN PUT YOUR NAME ON THIS LIST:.REPOST THIS AS YOUR SCHOOL NAME

Now let's just stop right here for a moment. This is not a Jesus-bashing thing. Back up the turnip truck, cajun, don't go jumping to conclusions. I don't really care if Jesus freaks feel obligated to forward stuff around the internet/myspace.com proclaiming their affection for the Lord. I don't even care if they forward it to me. So I am not making fun of that.

What's funny is what was under the body of the message. There were names. 1300 of them. I shall list some of the humorous ones I came upon in a quick scan of the list. They are:

0. JaNae...Williams
13. -el io-
26.Maya Aka Yaya
45. brItteRs *I ShOuLd Have BeEn NuMber onE*
63- Trae Carter a.k.a Trae pound b.k.a Now an Later..........
84. RAyeann aka rayray
134.JANETH AKA BROWN EYES AKA SWEET
136.3SA MZ T3MP3RX3158. *"X"* @.K@. CARLOS PACHECO
159. Scoot (young stunna)
160. R:a:c:h:e:L!
181.jatniel aka babyboy
227. Eric Paige who Eric Paige


Ok that's just the first ~250 or so. I'm sure the Lord is proud to have 3SA MZ T3MP3RX3 and jatniel on His side.

I have found another way for you to waste time

And it is this - The Yangpa

"Yangpa" means "onion" in Hangul and it's Korea's version of theonion.com.

My favorite after reading through a few pages - Brad Pitt Look-Alike Winner

I also like the Holocaust Museum one. Enjoy!

This is worth watching

Stephen Colbert vs. Rain, a popular Korean singer:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=xXFa1yc6zH0

"I'm gonna be all over you like a raw egg on a bowl of bibimbap." Nice.

Things That Are Better Than Harry Potter 7

(end of list)

I Really Need To Learn Some Korean

I had to make a trip to the hospital today to get a check up. My employer requires it and I'd neglected to get one before leaving home, so I had to get that done here. Walking in there with naught but a short note quickly written by one of my co-teachers before I'd left the school to explain my presence was a bit daunting, and a reminder of how piss poor my Hangul is.

I walked in, handed my note to a receptionist who directed me toward another office. I arrived, handed the same note to a new receptionist, and things went downhill from there.

Receptionist Girl: Anyeonghasayo, derka derka derkayo, derkayo mashayo, imnica?

Wayne: Uh, what?

RG: Ill ashayo mushidoya?

W: Der....

RG: (wildly flailing her arms about now) Ill ashay mushidoya?!?

Me: Hanguk-mal upsayo... (Translation: "The Korean, it does not exist")

RG: Hangul hasayo? ("Can you do Korean?")

Me: Aneyo. Young-uh. ("No. English.")

RG: Ok. Deep sigh. ("Fine. This is gonna be rough. Yet another witless waygookin who's too lazy to learn some simple conversational Hangul has arrived to wreak havoc on my day. I shall make grand motions with my hands and guide him around as if he were a child, and whenever he's not looking directly at me I shall make some sort of comment to my chica co-workers about how hairy his arms are or something, and giggle.")

I finally figuired out that she was asking for my alien card and once I produced that things went a little more smoothly. I was measured and assessed with all of the usual medical instruments. I was taken to an ear nose and throat guy who poked around ye olde cranium and then said something like "very good!" I guess I've got a good head on my shoulders. Another doctor asked me if "you been skin disease?" to which I answered no. I had my blood drawn and my chest was X-rayed.

I also had to give an urine sample. The orderly in this room spoke the best English, or at least she was the most confident in speaking it. She handed me a small paper cup and told me to "fill to here" a little black line halfway up the side. I went across the hall to the public bathroom, found an empty stall (fortunately) and proceeded to do my business.

Before I began I was a little worried b/c I didn't really feel like I had to go, but as my piss was quickly filling up the cup and nearly overflowing the rim it occured to me that I was going to have to act, and act fast. I jerked the cup away a bit too quickly and splashed some urine on my hands, but what was of more concern at the moment was the fact that I was spraying piss all over the toilet like it was a Jackson Pollack painting. I finally steadied myself and finished in the water, cleaned up, and crossed back to the nurses' room to deposit my urine. With that, my humiliating Korean hospital experience was ended.

Let's Talk About Cow Intestines

I had dinner with Tasha last night (make that 'Mi-Sook-noona' - I asked if I could stop calling her 'Tasha' her "slave name" as I like to call it, as it was forced on her by SLP, and she told me this is how I should address her - I was a little surprised that she attached the 'noona' suffix, which is an honorific somewhat akin to 'aunt' or 'ma'am'...I thought we were closer than that, but the age disparity btw us is pretty large, and that means a lot in Korea).

Whoa, what a lengthy digression.

Anyway, as I said I had dinner with Mi-Sook noona last night, her husband Tae Yeon, and their energetic 2 year old daughter, Min Young.

After I'd gotten my phone up and running I'd texted her and she called me back. I suggested we meet for dinner some time and she said that sounded great. Tasha, excuse me, Mi-Sook noona has been my companion for my most adventurous culinary investigations here in Korea, some of them failures (the dog balls) some of them successes (we once had a really good duck meal) all of them memorable. Last night was no exception.

When I met her in Yeokgok station she was full of suggestions. One of the first she produces was bo-shin-tang, dog meat soup, but I let her know that despite my apparent eagerness last year when we consumed the meat sans the broth I was none too keen on reliving that particular nightmare. "I'll try anything once," I said, and unlike most Korean English speakers she has a knack for detecting linguistic subtlety, and did so last evening.

Her most promising non-pet-related suggestion was "yang" or mutton. That actually sounded really appetizing, the last mutton meal I'd had was a terrifically bizarre one, on Christmas Even in Beijing with Lara and Drew and a string of Pakistani belly dancers, and so I said it sounded great.

We met up with her husband and her daughter and made our way to the restaurant. It was deserted when we arrived, but we were pretty early by Korean standards (it was about 7 PM). Mi Sook noona engaged the restauranteur in a lively discussion for a moment, and then translated for me . This was not, in fact, a "yang" restaurant, this was a "tuhk yang" restaurant. "Tuhk yang" is the Korean word for the "first cow's stomach," as it was relayed to me, or to put it a little more understandably: the first part of the cow's stomach. I think I recall from my AP Biology days that the cow's stomach has four parts. What a magnificent creature, is it any wonder a significant chunk of the world worships it?

Well we were going to be a little less reverential and eat it. I said it sounded interesting and that I'd like to try it, mainly b/c there were galbi-like grills at every table, and so it appeared that whatever we'd be eating, it'd at least be cooked, and more or less cooked by the standards of those consuming it...I could let my cow intestines burn black before I put 'em in my mouth, if I so chose.

We took a seat and the matron emerged from the kitchen a moment later with a plate full of slimy pale meat. There were two kinds of 'cuts,' if you will, there were broad thin pieces that sort of looked like a slice of turkey, which had probably come from the cow's stomach line. Then there were the more intestinal looking pieces, which were small tubes about as long and thick as your pinky and which had some sort of goo packed inside of them. To wit:

She plopped them down on the grill in front of us, cut them up into bite sized pieces, and turned on the heat.

And let me tell you something: that's some damn good eating. Not only was it edible, not only was it passable, it was tasty. I'd like to have it again. You get yourself a slice of cow stomach, take a chunk from the potatoes they provide with the meat, and put a few onions on there, and that's a hella bite outta life. Quoth me after two bottles of soju: "that was flippin good, Tasha!"

So once again I am indebted to my noona for broadening my dining horizons. To look at me one might thing my horizons are broad enough as is, but Korea is a constant reminder that, well, they ain't.

This Time It's Personal

So, I'm back in Korea. What can I say, I liked it so much I had to come back. Seriously, I'm not being sarcastic. I think. Anyway, I'm working at a Middle School in Bupyeong, pretty darn near where I was last year. Things are more or less the same as when I left them. Some folks have come, some have gone, some have come and gone. The buses still barrel up and down the thoroughfares. The neon lights come out at 9 or so every night, still. I'm still eating kimchi everyday. There's beer to be had everywhere. The Goose is still open. And there are Koreans, everywhere...

What has changed is the teaching. This new job is, well, different. I'm teaching at an all boys middle school, and each class has 40 or so 13-15 year old kids. They're not sorted by achievement or level, so in every class I have a handful of hagwon-borne little Einsteins and a handful of empty-headed idiots. It can be frustrating. I also have been gifted a Korean co-teacher in every class, who, depending on her methods, either hovers at the rear of the classroom and menaces the lazy students with a large stick, or parades up and down the aisles to ensure everyone's on task while occasionally translating and/or simplifying something I say. I'm used to being on my own in the classroom, so it's been a bit of an adjustment getting used to having them there.

The English levels of my co-teachers varies, as well, all the way from the one who's abashed at saying hi and greeting me in the morning and who appears to believe every sentence I produce is a puzzle of jigsaw like proportions, up to the one who approached me on day one offering to help any way she could and who's spent several years living abroad. So, with some, there have been some communication problems. An example.

The other day the English teachers were supposed to gather to head over to the neighboring girls middle school to observe and comment on a English class. One of my co-teachers came up to tell me.

Korean co-teacher: Wayine, we go to girl school at 4:30 for watching class, ok?

Wayne: I know, Pearl told me. What time will we meet here to walk over there?

KCT: No, we go at 4:30.

Wayne: Yes, but we go together, right?

KCT: Yes

Wayne: So when do we get together here, at this school, to meet to go there?

KCT: No no no, we go there at 4:30.

Wayne: Yes, we arrive at 4:30. When do we leave?

KCT: 4:30, at girls school.

Wayne: Yes, but we are walking the half-mile from here to there together. When do we leave here?

KCT: We go there at 4:30.

Wayne: Yes, we GET there at 4:30. But when leave here?

KCT: 4:30

And so on. We wound up meeting a few minutes before, downstairs by the principal's office. I really should've learned by now not to sweat the details and just guesstimate...otherwise I wind up embroiled in these sort of perpetual linguistic snafus.

My students, for the most part, are...how to put this...well, they would've benefited from SLP, let's just say that. They are a cheery bunch, they should be credited for that. I can't walk to the bathroom without being greeted with a good dozen or so "Hi's," and an occasional "How are you?" or "Where are you going?" It's almost as if some sort of mythical creature that they'd only heard of in lore and seen in the movies has suddenly come to walk these hallowed halls, perhaps as if a centaur started teaching French in Garner or something.

But I'm used to that, more or less, and I'm used to the unwitting perverse hilarity of the place, too. Just today, I'm walking outside in front of the school while the students're running around, playing games, and dancing madly. What's the soundtrack, blaring from the school speakers? 'It's raining men.' I didn't even allow myself a personal snicker. I'm gonna be fine this year, I think.

In Praise of the Ghost

Check out this article from my hometown of Garner, NC. Finally, something happened in Garner!

There are some sweet quotes within, like this: "Fears that the vandalism is being seen by others as a blow to Garner's dignity." And ""It's an eyesore," Binns said. "It detracts from the community."

Um, no, it'd be pretty hard to detract from our humble community, we of the main roads through town that haven't been paved since the Hoover administration, we of the low test scores and corrupt lunch ladies (seriously, we had this cabal of lunch ladies who stole like a million dollars from the high school), we of the mailman mayor in drag, we of "we're just like Cary, except we're poorer and we have crime!", we of nary a bookstore in sight in a town of 20,000, we of...you get the picture. No, this doesn't detract at all. Anything that adds a little cachet, whenever someone actually does something unique and interesting in our town, even if it's a little bit illegal (c'mon, we're not talking about a serial killer here - though that would be much cooler) I say it's ok. It's better than ok. It's welcome.

Graffitti on, Ghost.

Attention Bums: Stop Calling Me 'Sir'

In the past week or two, I've been approached by a good dozen or so bums. In California, I gather, this is no big thing. But what's really pissing me off ain't the sacrificed cigarettes and pocket change, it's the way they address me. "Excuse me, sir," "Hello, sir, could I.....,""Pardon Me, Sir," and so on and so forth.

I'm not old enough to be a "Sir," bums. I just turned 25. I know my stately paunch and dismissive air may lead to the wrong impression, but let's face it, what separates me from you guys is only a misplaced ATM card and a bender too far. Keep your Sirs to yourselves, ok?

In other news, I've moved to San Diego. We'll see where this goes. First impressions:

1) Mexicans everywhere. Oh, excuse me, I meant Latinos everywhere.

That's pretty much it so far. I'm not very observant.

Zodiac, or, 'Let's Have a Go of It for 2 1/2 Hours Then Just Stop'

Oooh, creepy poster. It's got...fog...and a bridge. Plus it's night I guess, so that's bad.

Saw the new Zodiac movie today, the one starring the drug addict, the gay cowboy, and the d00d who's face you recognize but whose name you can't never 'member. It was disappointing.

Maybe it's because the reviews were positive, maybe it's b/c the ticket-tearer piped up with 'hey, I hear that's really good' on the way in...whatever the reason I was let down.

Oh, I know, maybe it's because we have this intense investigation that drives the whole plot, we weave in and out of a shitload of suspects/false leads/creepy encounters for 2 1/2 hours and then all of a sudden everything just stops. Seriously, it's like they ran out of film or something. We never know for sure if 'Leigh' did it, we never have a final confrontation with him, we don't even get a creepy "but he's still out there" final scene with a fade to black and sinister music a la Silence of the Lambs. Instead, everything just stops. The final scene is in an airport 10 years after all the action with two characters who weren't even featured significantly in the story. This is how it goes:

Coppish Guy: Hey man, what's up? Which one of these doods is that badass killer we've been chasing for two decades?

Dirty Guy: It's that guy right there, bro.

Coppish Guy: You sure?

Dirty Guy: Yeah, man.

(Roll credits)

What a fucking tease. The last act of this movie was the cinematic equivalent of a cold shower.

I know, I know, it was based on a true story and that's what really happened, and the gay cowboy had his book published and all calling Leigh out, and the explainer paragraphs at the end pretty much assure us he was right. But it was a really bad ending to a movie. If you're gonna tell a story, then you need a climax, and if you have to take a few liberties with the truth in attaining one, well, that's what you do. If I just want the facts I'll watch a documentary.

Still, it was better than 300.

This man is my hero

Why? Here's why:

Click me, bitch!

Wow.

300 Reasons Why You Shouldn't See '300'

1) It's probably gonna cost you somewhere between 6 and 10 bucks.

2) You're also gonna need a good two hours to devote to it, and like the money, you ain't getting that back.

3) Do you see the picture over there ---->? If you had to characterize his manner of speaking, what would you choose? Whispering? Shouting? Pompous bellowing? I'd lean towards the latter of those three, too, and now try and imagine a full length feature film wherein that is the only way folx communicate. Yeah.

4) Shirtless dudes to scantily clad ladies ratio --> 300: 1.

5) Sloooooooooow mooooootiooooon allllllllllll oooooooooooffff tttttttthhhhhhhhhheeeeeee tttttttttiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmeee iiiiiissssssss rrrrrrreeeeeaaaaaaaallllllllllllyyyyyyyy aaannnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooyyyyyyiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggg.

6) You know how it ends already.

7) Apparently the Persians circa few thousand years ago were all gray skinned monsters. Who knew?

8) There's a needless subplot about the wife and politics and I don't have the energy to go into it.

9) After the 15th pointless slow motion decapitation, you get kinda bored with it.

10) For some reason one of the Spartans looks like this guy:

And they DON'T play it up for laughs.

11) Every mundane gesture gets verbally slobbered all over by the voiceover dude. Example from how I imagine the script:

(Leonidas picks up his sword)

Voiceover Guy: Leonidas was skilled with the sword from the start, his inner steel matched the strength of his blade, in his glorious youth he had slain eight mountainous wolf beasts in an epic struggle over the rights to feed on a felled deer yadda yadda yadda....

Or

(Yookpilones takes a bite from an apple)

VG: Oh, the Spartans were a hungry bunch, but their hunger for battle was even greater, indeed in taking a bite out of his apple Yookpilones yearned to do the same to his foe, the hordes of the Persian Empire who had massed on yonder shore....

All of this would be filmed in slow motion, of course, while the hero gazes thoughtfully into the distance or at a fallen comrade or straight into the sun.

12)There are all sorts of eye-rolling inducing winks and hints at our current war in Iraq, things like "We are at war, why can't you realize it, we have to stand and fight!" and "Freedom comes at a price."

13) Leonidas has a stupid looking beard.

14)One homeboy takes out a charging rhino with his spear.

15) There's a group of dudes who all look just like the Emperor in Return of the Jedi. Struck me as kind of a rip off, specially since they're baddies, too.

16) The archetypal noble queen totally bangs the bad guy, and then she murders him, and then, surprise surprise, she has a witty little thing to say to him as he dies. Cliche factor 5.

Bad Guy: I'm turning the tables on you and exposing you as a whore and doing generally evil things blah blah blah....

Queen: How dare you!

Bad Guy: Blah blah blah whore blah blah blah I banged you blah blah blah...

Queen: (steals his sword and stabs him in the gut)

Bad Guy: Whoa, I wish I hadn't been bad.

Queen: I am going to say something witty as you die that will make your death even worse, so there!

17) There are all these cool giant monster guys that have like 10 minutes of buildup and then die in 10 seconds. There's this one dude who's chained up by the Persians (so you know he must be super badass) and he's like 8 feet tall and his face is all fucked and everything, and we see him coming to the battle for like 10 minutes, roaring the whole time. Seriously, imagine like this:

Goliath guy: (10 minutes) Raaaaaaaarrrrr rarrarararara!!! ARRRRRR!!!!! (/10 minutes)

Leonidas: Hello extra ugly and tall bad guy. I will kill you!

Goliath: No you won't!

(Leonidas kills him) (End Scene)

18) For some reason Sparta has a giant pit in the middle of town. They should put a fence up or something.

19) People have weird accents. One dude's from Australia, another's from the UK, another's from India, etc etc.

20) The Greeks are wholly good and the Persians are wholly bad. From what I know about both peoples, I think I'd've rather been living in Perseopolis about this time than Sparta.

21) The Spartans are a fucked up people, and yet they're cast as the absolute good. These guys threw babies who weren't up to snuff out into the woods, enslaved their neighbors so they could perpetuate their warrior culture while 'lesser' people minded the fields and whatnot, and generally caused lots of problems. Give me the Persians with their cool elephants and shit anyday. Plus, number of brothels per civilization seen in 300: Persians -1 Spartans - 0. Check. Mate.

22) Leonidas has to bust his ass to get up to this Greek temple on the top of this inaccessible rocky protrusion, and then there's like 8 old guys up there. And they later get visited by flabby bad guy and his cohorts. How the fuck did they all get up there?

23) Dudes stand around and talk about their hearts a lot. "My heart is filled with love" "my heart is filled with hate" "What fills your heart?" and so on. Gay.

24) I started pulling for the Persians about 1/4 of the way through the movie.

25) The Persians are constantly falling down. Falling off of cliffs, falling to the bottom of the sea, falling off of horses, etc etc. What's with that?

26) Sin City was way better. It was fun. 300 isn't.

27) Enough with the comic book movies. I love comic books, but just b/c someone has an idea and it was in a comic book doesn't mean it should be made into a film.

28) I nearly walked out.

300) It's worse than Mel Gibson's The Passion.

More Inane Korean Kid-Chatter!

Giving the people what they want-

Dancing Queen

What can be said about this? It pretty much speaks for itself. From our rehearsal for the upcoming graduation:

The Blasphemy Challenge

This is interesting, I think, if perhaps a bit misguided.

Belated Best Wishes for Christmas

Sure, I'm a few weeks late in posting this, but I think it's pretty funny so it's worth it. My kids gave me a bunch of cards for Christmas, and they were filled with the usual platitudes and misspellings. This one was the best:

The many faces of SLP Santa

There's this great Far Side cartoon I saw once called "The Many Faces of a German Shepard" or something like that. There are a series of portraits of the same dog's face, some are labeled "ecstatic" "thrilled" "jubilant" some say "bored" "ill" "suicidal," and of course...they all look the same. With that introduction, I bring you the many faces of the SLP Santa.

Happy Santa:


Distraught Santa:

Sweaty Santa:

Mischievous Santa:

Murderous Santa:

And a few non-Santa related SLP pictures: