I Didn't Get Run Over By A Reindeer

I apologize. I know you skipped visiting your parents in Minnesota because they don't have internet access and you cannot physically bear to be parted from this blog for more than 24 hours. I know you ordered takeout for your holiday feast because the thought of not reading my posts as soon as they arrive on the internet gives you uncontrollable flatulence - I am sorry I even brought it up. I know you asked Santa to forget about the Kindle you wanted if he could only make me post something... ANYTHING on my blog.
I wish I could tell you I was unavoidably detained with critical movie-critic business, essential to the betterment of your blog-reading experience. I wish I could say that I was absent because I was out ridding the world of bad holiday movies, but of course that excuse doesn't wash for all of you who saw How do you Know. I wish I could at least tell you that I was busy watching oodles of intriguing movies and formulating thought-provoking yet entertaining reviews for your enjoyment.
Alas, the truth is that your humble fabulist fell prey to the allure of snowy days of doing nothing, gift exchange, bottomless stockpiles of cookies, hot chocolate topped with towering billows of whipped cream, and general holiday gluttony. It is an unfortunate realism that you spent the holidays glued to the Celluloid Kitchen, manically assaulting the reload button in hopeless futility while I was away enjoying the festivities that you so pointlessly missed. It certainly is a travesty.

Happy Holidays!