CALIFORNIA CONFIDENTIAL: If Santa Even Thinks of Giving Me a Prince Albert This Year, I'm Putting That Jolly Elf Bastard on a Milk Carton

SAN LUIS OBISPO COUNTY, Calif. (ZP) -- Some folks love all of that White Christmas jazz, the cold snowflakes and freakish blizzards, the legends of creepy fat men in red jumpsuits who climb down chimneys while reindeer freeze atop some icy, Eastern American rooftop.

Um... yeah.

Those folks can keep it.

Nothing beats a California Christmas.

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The old ZenFo Pro stomping ground, this part of the Golden State, is a land where the daytime temperature almost always hovers in the 50s and 60s during the winter, Norteno radio stations blare peppy versions of Mexican carols, and there's more than enough avocados in the kitchen to make a decent guacamole for Christmas Eve.

Yes. I said guacamole. I'm hoping my sister whips up some of her special recipe this year. Goes great with the ham.

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While shopping down in the city of San Luis Obispo (aerial shot, above) this weekend, I watched as a happy couple - a man and woman, each sporting sleeves of tattoos - loaded their holiday gifts into a low-riding Ford pickup.

Wetsuits, surfboards, rock climbing gear, a giant statue of the Buddha, books, and a bag of CDs from Boo Boo Records.

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I talked with a lovely gay couple at a strip mall in nearby Atascadero about their quest for the perfect gift for their adopted child. I recommended the Legos. Every kid loves Legos, and they tend to brighten up any family blessed with smart little boys.

(If you're one of those high-and-mighty religious folks who somehow thinks two gay people in a committed relationship shouldn't be allowed to raise children or believe that they have no right to call their unit a family, don't bother leaving a comment. But, please, feel free to go suck the shit out of the nearest septic tank.)

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A young woman outside a surf/skate shop here in Paso Robles told me that, yes, getting her nipple pierced hurt like hell, but nowhere near as much as getting her clit done - a Christmas gift from her mother.

I spent 30 minutes talking to a woman about her Yuletide genital modification two days before Christmas.

Total stranger. And she wished me a happy holidays, too.

Sweet.

Nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing, beats a California Christmas.

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