Christmas is a stocking stuffed with sugary goodness.

One Christmas my father kept our tree up till March. He hated to see it go. I loved that.

I love the excess of Christmas. The shopping season that begins in September, the bad pop star recordings of Christmas carols, the decorations that don't know when to come down.

Generally I get up at around 7. But oftentimes, I'll be lolling in bed a little bit earlier - sometimes as early as 5:45 - filing in my mind all the things I have to get done. Which is, of course, totally unproductive.

Hypocrisy is great fodder for comedy.

No, no, no separate but equal... never the twain shall meet. And the pendulum kept swinging and it came to rest in the bastard hybrid known as the Daily Show.