The 21st Century ELF is NOT Pleased to Meet You

I’m betting you thought an ELF was a happy-go-lucky character, didn’t you? Some cute little pointy-eared critter who wears green and red striped stocking caps and whistles “Deck the Halls” while cranking out toys for good children. Hmmmm?
First off, you’ve got the pointy-eared thing all wrong. Those are brownies. Elves are NOT brownies. We’re not even chocolate chip cookies. Had to think about that one didn’t you? The word ELF is actually an acronym. No, I’m not telling you what it stands for. Why not? Well, there has to be some mystery in the world after all!
Am I getting on your nerves yet? Good. But don’t take it too personally; I get on everyone’s nerves, which is why they’ve assigned me to write for this site. It’s payback for all the times that I’ve left Santa holding the bag.
That’s my job during the Christmas Eve rush to deliver all those toys year round; holding Santa’s bag. There are a thousand elves that would kill for this job, but to be quite honest I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even want it; it’s mine by seniority. Next to Santa himself I’m the oldest elf and since I turned down the job of workshop manager, it was either this or mucking out the reindeer stalls and let me tell you something, Rudolph is not everything he’s cracked up to be.
And no, I won’t tell you how I got to be an elf either. Oh come on, don’t look so surprised, did you think I was born this way? No, it’s a very long story which, in its unedited version reads a lot like Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ (only with more glitter) but it’s really need to know information and for all that I’m sure you’re a decent person and all that, you really don’t need to know.
The point being, when I’m not assigned to holding Santa’s bag (and letting out the occasional cat) I am given odd jobs around the workshop, some of which seem utterly pointless while others, like writing for this site, are actually bearable.
One of the things I’m here for is to tell you about some of the awesome new toys that we’re putting together in the workshop this year. Well, some are awesome, others I’ve been told are awesome, and while I don’t personally see it, there is after all a time and a place for everything, and seeing as that I’ve been alive long enough to be able to tell you what Rome was like when they still wore togas, I’ve seen just about everything.
So bear with me while I work my way through this special Christmas list courtesy of Old Kris himself, and forgive an old and rather crusty elf his occasional rants and liberties. I rather think that I’ve earned them.
Shall we get to it? There is, after all, no time like the present.