Slim Tinsel Bids Farwell

Slim Tinsel remembers around day six of Rantmas as we trembled, locked in our tiny garrett, down to our last few sheets of vellum while subsisting on a meager diet of absinthe and Haribo gummy bears. Slim won’t lie: we felt despair. We wondered if this might be the end. But then we had a wormwood-pectin induced vision of the shiny, bright faces of our fans¹ frantically refreshing their browsers, expectant and hopeful for the next day of Rantmas. And we forged on, dear readers; we forged on.

Because Slim Tinsel abides. From glen to glen and down the mountainside. Over the river and through the woods. Staying alive no matter what occurs. Of all the gin joints in all the towns of the world, Slim Tinsel walks in and drinks your milkshake; we drink it up. Just like a rolling stone. So if you want to kiss the sky, you better learn how to kneel. You’re going to need a bigger boat to carry all these quotes home. We just want you to know, we’re all pulling for you. And don’t call us Shirley. You’re killing me Smalls, and I’m falling apart here. But it’s better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. That’s why we’re going to Mobile.²

So now here we stand at the end of Rantmas, our mission complete. Many a Las Vegas book has collapsed paying out the staggering odds of our triumph. When in a future Rantmas, you gather the children about you to describe these twelve days³ by suggesting echoes of Hercules and his labors, know that Hercules roamed the earth as a child of the mighty Zeus, and we are merely mortal. As you brush a tear away from your eye, remind your young charges that they can aspire to a similar greatness depending on only their pluck and wits. And of course gummy bears. You might hold off on the absinthe until you determine the level of pluck and wits possessed.

But enough of your imaginary children; Slim Tinsel salutes you and your fortitude in making this journey with us. In the new year, The Rant will return to provide comfort and solace. We shall rant on the beaches, we shall rant on the landing grounds, we shall rant in the fields and in the streets, we shall rant in the hills; we shall rant and never surrender. With our last breath we Rant at thee.

1. We may have our fans confused with Swifties. More absinthe for everyone!
2. Anyone identifying all the above quotes will receive a shiny silver dollar from Slim and a box set of The Facts of Life on VHS. And yes we loved Nancy McKeon not Lisa Welchel. Please. We would have loved Tootie, but we had been informed such things were not permitted
3. Slim has no doubt some surly reader will start a Reddit thread and rage about there actually being less than twelve days of Rantmas this year. But that is the cost of inflation, friends. Your verbal Tic Tacs must now come in a smaller package. Look, we’re not proud of it, but some of our comedy comes from China, and the tariffs are taking their toll as well. Slim feels confident a team of economists will back us up on this note