Alas, the annual Figgy Pudding Festival, highest holy day on the White Bourgeoisie calendar, went off on Friday without a hitch. Cops were everywhere, and there was not a single, solitary mohawk in sight. Woo-Hoo!
Why is Figgy Pudding so special to upper-middle-class whites and the upper-middle-class whites at heart (Asian girls I’m looking at you)?
Are you kidding?
Singing Christmas carols, on the downtown streets of a major city, to benefit the homeless, while the homeless are kept far, far away?
We’re talking urban adventure without the risk, an audience of thousands watching you sing like Whitney, and
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