Throw up your hands like you just don't care. I dare YOU to be the last decorated house in your neighborhood.

I've gone done it again people.  Held onto the Christmas/New Years whole season of lights thing until well past New Years.  It's rather embarrassing that I'm the last to tend to my garish display that is so awkwardly out of place now.  I actually considered taking them down tonight when I pulled up to my house and saw that I was the only one still basking in the after glow of baby Jesus and all that 2012 revelry.  Had I not sweated my balls off at yoga tonight I may have attempted it, but it dropped to like sub-50 degrees tonight with wind gusts of 40 mph and that my friends is, like, just asking for my proverbial sweaty balls to become permanently fused together like a giant snow cone.  I wasn't about to chance it.

I'm not proud that I am the last one - my lights blazing into the blackest of nights like I owned the electric company.  But I'm not about to let my concern for the sensibilities of all those community gossip-mongers dictate when I will rip down hours and hours of Christmas lights - particularly when it would only result in (proverbial) testicular frost bite followed immediately by 2 weeks of bronchitis.  I read somewhere the two conditions are somehow connected.  It's in the American Medical Journal, I swear.

In any event, unless the weather warms up or I suddenly become inspired in the next 48 hours to tackle this little indelicacy I've caused with my neighbors by keeping the festivities going long after the tribe has spoken, then I will be raging on with these friggin lights until the Wisemen pull up on their camels for Little Christmas.  Which I believe doesn't occur until January 12th?  Something like that.  So rock on baby Jesus, birthdays are mega big at my house anyway.  Props.