Glorious folk traditions of the world no. 4671
We are fast approaching the time of year when households all over the world are said to see the arrival of Sexist Claus, a jolly fat man in a red singlet with a smear of black stubble over his face and chin. According to lore, Sexist Claus will arrive at your house unannounced in the middle of the night, take up residence on your couch, and ask for you to bring him a drink. He doesn't come bringing any gifts, because he forgot them all when he was out.
He is associated with several magic abilities: the ability to trawl sites like OKCupid or Lavalife in an increasingly desperate attempt to find a 'special someone'; the ability to do nothing at all for extended periods of time; or the ability to turn you into an object by merely looking at you. (He has collected many fine examples of statuary for his house and gardens this way).
Sexist Claus has a secret home on the moon called The Patriarchy, where he lives most of the year with his "little helpers", the local Men's Rights Association. They don't actually do anything all year, they just talk shit and leave abusive comments on other people's blogs. His carriage is pulled by 12 galloping snarks, with a troll helper seated beside him for the journey.
It is often said that if a little child denies the existence of Claus by crying "I don't believe in Sexism" thrice, a unicorn molests a fairy. Other families believe if the right charm is uttered, Clementine Ford will come galloping in on a white stallion to defend their house from the depredations of the dreadful Sexist. But his power remains undiminished, and next year he will come back stronger than ever.
Basically, he's a dick.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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