Punk was a nearly perfect Joseph in his camoflauge robe and pillowcase do-rag. He stood in front of the church smiling dutifully at the baby Jesus for over a half-an-hour. Only occasionally did he channel his inner Cher by flipping said pillowcase over one shoulder, then the other. Though neither he, nor his new wife could have been too enamored with the baby, since they left him sitting alone in the manger as they exited the church.
Kooka was a lovely little something-or-other. She sang beautifully, but I am still not sure what exactly it is that she was supposed to be. All I know is that I was less worried last year, when she was a sheep. This time around she looked like she was going to be sold to the highest bidder.
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