In 1988, few things were as cool or innovative on Saturday mornings as Pee-Wee's Playhouse. Each week, we screamed the secret word, connected dots, watched old weird-ass cartoons and saw Saturday Night Live star Phil Hartman play a surly sea captain.
The show was something five-year olds and hungover twentysomethings could all enjoy. But the Christmas special that came that holiday season is beyond understanding even 20 years on. Not until Drenched watched it again a few years back did he realize how utterly insane this thing was.
Even more interesting were all the gay cultural icons that were featured - people like Cher, k.d. lang, and Zsa Zsa Gabor all showed up around the playhouse. It was a fun and groundbreaking hour of television. Even Little Richard popped up out of nowhere.
But all those legends aside, there are many things a child should never have to endure until they reach maturity, and one of those things is Grace Jones. Grace Jones scares the shit out of me. Even now, watching her segment haunts my yuletide memories.
The smell of peanut-butter cookies, the pine of a real tree mixing with the aroma of a crackling fireplace. - all those things take a back seat to Grace Jones and her rendition of "Little Drummer Boy."
She came out of a wooden box and wore some sort of breast plate while she menacingly did a jig with Pee-Wee. I'm glad to know that they also celebrate the birth of Christ on Planet What the Fuck. - Craig Hlavaty