In the beginning, there was imagination.

There were also people.  Though they weren’t college educated or high school graduates, they had an incredible talent for telling stories.

One of their faves was told on long winter nights about a kid born to save all people from starvation, pestilence (There was no CDC at the time.) and to bring peace to all the peoples of the earth (Though they also didn’t know s**t about earth.).

There were three guys who rode camels, not limos or even freight trains, across deserts, rivers, mountains … night and day … hundreds of miles following an effing star to find this kid who was going to save the world.

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They were called “The Wise Men,” although they exhibited incredible stupidity to embark on such a trek astride god awful smelling camels.  But, if they’ed been called the “Three F**cking Stupid Guys,” how would that advance the story?

Their names didn’t help.  They weren’t Louie “The Screw” Campoto, Georgie “Cement Feet” Gambolo or Frankie “Pay Me Now” Fugilio.  Nope.  They were Melchior, Caspar and Balthazar.

But they persevered and followed that star.

Didn’t ask questions like, “WTF are we doing?”  Or “WTF are you bringing for the kid?”

They just rocked along on their desert ships until they reached Bethlehem.

They checked the only inn in town and the night clerk told them that he sent the family to the stable.  On the way to the manger, Melchior asked Balthazar, “You got the gold?”

“Gold?  I don’t got any gold.  Caspar, what you bringing?”

Caspar looked at the other two and said, “I got that crappy, syrupy sweet smelling stuff … frankincense.”

Melchior chuckled and said, “Naw … I got the gold.  I was just f**kin’ with you guys.  You think I’d forget the gold?”

Balthazar replied, “Gold?  You got gold?  All I got is myrrh … the s**t they use on dead bodies.  You got gold?”

Balthazar and Caspar stared at each other … dollar signs in their eyes.  And that dear friends, is how Xmas greed was introduced into the season.  Melchior arrived solo at the stable a bit bruised and worse for wear, bearing frankincense and myrrh… but minus the gold.

Balthazar and Caspar … Well, they were seen hightailing it across the desert … Balthazar headed to Sodom and Caspar to Gomorrah, their saddle bags bulging with gold.

But all did not end well.  They ended up broke, Caspar with “Gomorrahrea” and Balthazar with “Sodomosis.”

Moral of the story:  “An ass is but an ass, though laden with gold” – Romanian Proverb

Just sayin’.

In case you haven’t noticed, we’re smack dab in the middle of a down sizing, de-stuffing, de-cluttering epidemic!

By the time you read this, you’ll probably have less than 11 shopping days until Christmas.  And, if you haven’t completed the art of driving up your credit debt and buying more useless stuff for everyone on your list, guess what?

You can kick the habit right now.  Stop shopping … stop spending … stop accumulating.  You can ride the new wave and “Stop Stuffing” … and I ain’t talking about turkey!

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Boomers have run out of storerooms, closets, garages, and space in kids’ vacated bedrooms.  They’re pulling the plug on their storage rental units and cutting the cord on “precious items” that haven’t seen the light of day for years.

But, here’s the real rub!  Their kids aren’t stepping up to the “plates!”

Boomers, who doted on their kids, have spawned privileged Millennial offspring who are not the least bit interested in taking their parents’ stuff, or even acquiring their own.

Instead, Millennials are embracing the romance of “experience.”  They want to surf the wave, not look at the board hanging on a wall.  They clearly don’t realize there’s a Cosmic Law that states: “Stuff must be passed from generation to generation.”  Hell, we bought this crap, paid to store it and now you tell us you could care less?

The fact that there were three indoor trees in your home each Christmas and outdoor decorations that put Clark Griswold, National Lampoon’s “Christmas Vacation” to shame, doesn’t mean your kids will want the same things.

What they will want is for you to keep it, make their holidays bright and leave it all behind until they need another holiday fix.

But rather than getting mad and creating another level of angst and ulceration in your life, catch the big wave of change.

Get rid of the s**t and move on.

Throw a “De-Stuffing Party.” Get out the popcorn and margaritas.  Stack your stuff on the side of the street the day before trash pick-up with a big sign … FREE STUFF… and watch the pickers go at it.

And if you have de-stuffing remorse, you can buy it all back from your local flea market.

So get stoked, hang ten, and yell “Cowabunga” as you ride this wave and give-up your stuff!

Just sayin’ …

More trouble in the GOP’s “Race-to-the-Bottom” Presidential Primary …

As if sorting through racial slurs, xenophobic rhetoric and opponent bashing weren’t enough, now some Bozos have analyzed the field’s diet and personal health habits.

Talk about confusing the situation … this takes the cake … Arrgh, who said that?

When asked about his personal health and diet, The Donald first blustered that …

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he was in perfect health and the voters would just have to take his word for it.

“Trust me.”

But then relenting three hours later, he tweeted that his doctor would issue a full report … “It will show perfection.”

Trump declared that he’s a meat and potatoes guy … no surprise there.  The meat’s steak … well done.  The veggies are French fries, making him the “real man” his base demands.

Then you got the Doc … Ben Carson, a vegetarian endorsed by a vegetarian GOP group.  Long live frozen peas and carrots!

Some of us think Ben’s only chance will be to register farm animals to vote.  It’s rumored they all love him.  You can bet Carson won’t win the endorsement of the Beef Association … or the pork belly bacon folks or rabbit raisers … much less the sheep f**kers and chicken pluckers.

The heavy weight in the contest is Chris “Jersey-Mad-Dog” Christie.  He still looks like the “Round Mound Man,” even after his lap-band surgery and loss of over 100 pounds.  I’m sorry, but the man must have a hot and heavy love affair with pizza and pasta.

The Right Reverend Huckabee has two “food books” under his belt (aargh again!) … the 2005 “Quit Digging Your Grave with a Knife and Fork,” and his most recent, “God, Guns, Grits and Gravy.”  He’s also the guy known for frying up squirrel in his popcorn popper.  What class!

And who can forget Ted “They-Really-Do-Hate-Me-in-the-Senate” Cruz.  His favorite is bacon fried on the red hot barrel of an AK47 as he smokes a silhouette target of a Jihadist, then un-wraps his pig-fat strip and slurps it down.

But … the most serious guy about this health and diet issue is the bland man … JEB!

Rumor has it he’s lost 40 pounds, but not gained 40 percentage points, while on Paleo.  The Paleo, AKA “the rich guy’s diet,” is an expensive way to lose weight. Don’t fret … Barbara’s boy can afford it.

But … screw all this comparative diet crap.

While slogging through the primaries, all were spotted chomping pork chops on a stick, fried dough thingies, bacon wrapped anything, and whatever was cold, dripping down the sides of a cone.

With no clear winner, I guess they’ll just eat their way into the voters’ hearts.

Just sayin’.