Since I know you long for the holiday season that just ended and you cannot live without it, I shall fulfill your sick wishes by doing something that takes you back in time.
How was that for an intro? OK, I’m going to supply you with a game that we played on my YouTube show in mid December. It’s called “SBD,” which means “Same But Different.” The words have various meanings but are spelled the same way, for the most part.
I threw in a few this time that have a slightly different spelling but sound the same. I think I only did that maybe three times and they might not even make this particular column.
The following SBD game has a holiday focus so that explains my opening line—I think.
Now that I’ve taken up space by bloviating madly about this jazz, I shall now provide you with said game. The answers are at the very end and I trust you to refrain from cheating. (Actually, these are pretty easy. I decided to be kind and gentle to my viewers as a holiday spirit gesture.)
One: I’m the first name of a silent film dude who died very young and an entity that guides jolly men through the fog when need be. Two: I’m a thick drink from Wendy’s and I come to life when a particular item of clothing is placed on my cold dead body.
Three: I’m single but really belong to a “YUGE” group so I can build up and am also a rather new description given to certain people who are perceived by many to be way too sensitive.
Four: This is the number of days the Beatles will love you and is also associated with that “other” winter festival.
Five: I hang on a tree, am used in a lamp and bring forth beautiful tulips to boot. Six: I’m a showy or superficial attractiveness associated with glamour and “______ Town,” for example and am also used to adorn seasonal evergreens in the home with my thin “body.”
Seven: Barbara Streisand said love was ageless and ME and I’m brought in from the forest for a winter festival.
Eight: During an eight day winter festival I’m made with a root veggie, but ordinarily I’m served for breakfast with plenty of sweet stuff surrounding my body.
Nine: I’m the “days of Christmas” in terms of true love gift giving; I’m the number of people who hung with the “J Man” and am also associated with the Zodiac.
Ten: The edible kind of me is chocolate wrapped up in a gold or silver foil material but the real me is a current medium of exchange in the form of coins and banknotes.
Eleven: I’m Archie Bunker’s real first name and Mrs. Brady to boot; I’m also sung door to door during this most festive time of the year. Twelve: I’m a Russian-born American film and stage actor associated with the King and I and am an archaic term for Christmas/winter solstice.
Thirteen: I’m a very fancy dancing event where ladies and gents dress up to take part and I drop in Times Square too. I can also be “thrown” and “kicked” for good measure. Fourteen: I’m upbeat, perky and personable to boot; some might say I’m downright gregarious but too much of me in my other form will go strait to your head and make you sick the next day. Happy New Year!!
Fifteen: Some might think that I’m a great name for a lady stripper but I’m also used to adorn Christmas trees and am given to children as I’m super sweet! My standard look is red and white but I can vary in color schemes.
Sixteen: I’m here and accounted for and am also given during this time of year as it’s better to give me than to receive me, as the saying goes.
Seventeen: I’m the day “after” so to speak, in the UK so that servants and workers can receive something in which other things are placed. I could be used to describe the big fight taking place in a ring.
Eighteen: I’m the first season of the Christian church year leading up to Christmas, including the four preceding Sundays and I’m the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.
Nineteen: I’m a Christian feast day celebrated on January 6th, commemorating the Magi’s visit to the baby Jesus. I can also be described as an “ah ha” moment when someone has “one of me.”
Twenty: The eight day winter festival in which participants light one candle per night is celebrated due to MY re-dedication in the year 200 BCE (Before Common Era) and I’m a great place to massage when one has a tension headache.
Twenty One: I’m one of the original eight but am oft’ forgotten since that ninth one overshadows all of us with that glow of his. The name brand variety of me can also be used to scrub toilets, tubs and other household items. I also zoom overhead every so often. Rumor has it that the star that was followed by the wise men could have been one of me instead!
Twenty Two: According to the seasonal story, they followed ME in order to get to HIM. Plus, people oft’ walk all over me when they visit “Tinsel Town.”
Twenty Three: I can tilt to one side especially when associated with ships or other vessels but am known for being checked twice this time of year to determine if a person is deserving of holiday gifts.
Twenty Four: I’m a small text file created by a website that is stored in the user’s computer either temporarily for that session only or permanently on the hard disk. I provide a way for the website to recognize you and keep track of your preferences. I’m also something kids leave out for Santa along with a beverage.
Twenty Five: I’m associated with an animal who is ready for action in terms of being fertile. Also, there are four of me throughout the year with different weather being involved. I can also be associated with sports. Some call this time of year the holiday variety of me.
Answers: One, Rudolph (Valentino and Red-Nosed Reindeer). Two, Frosty.
Three, Snowflake. Four, Eight (Eight Days a Week and Hanukkah has eight nights).
Five, Bulb. Six, Tinsel. Seven, Evergreen. Eight, Pancake.
Nine, Twelve (12 Days of Christmas song, 12 disciples of Jesus and 12 Zodiac signs).
Ten, Gelt. Eleven, Carol. Twelve, Yule/Yul (Brynner). Thirteen, Ball. Fourteen, Bubbly.
Fifteen, Candy Cane. Sixteen, Present.
Seventeen, Boxing Day. Eighteen, Advent. Nineteen, Epiphany.
Twenty, Temple. Twenty One, Comet. Twenty Two, Star (Hollywood Walk of Fame). Twenty Three, List. Twenty Four, Cookies.
Twenty Five, Season.
I think this covers it for the week. I don’t have any way to wrap this up and place a bow atop in sticking with the theme, so I shall simply say, “THE END.” (Interstate Crosscheck, “War is a Racket,” by General Smedley Butler, checktheevidence.com)