Christmas Me Up Bitches
12/15/05 - by Goerge -

Oh joy, its Christmas, good will to all men, and fuck the women. It’s been happening since John Constantine did that thing with the cat, where he goes to hell and grabs that girl’s sister’s wristband, or something like that. It’s a happy time of year, where kids go to their local shopping plaza; wait in line while weird blokes in green pointy shoes pretend that they don’t feel like a bunch of floppy dicks, until the kid gets to the front of the line and sits on some old bearded dude’s lap. The aforementioned dude is bedecked completely in a fluffy red outfit.

Twenty years ago there wouldn’t be that much space for my sense of humour to parody this with sexual deviance, however as a sign of the times (the times being since they found out St. Christopher was a paedophile) I will say this: Santa likes children a little too much.

Let us regard the evidence shall we?

· For one night a year he goes into EVERY kid’s room in the world.
· He is able to this using “Magic” (More like fucking “Speed”)
· He makes children like him by attracting them with sweets and presents, sometimes even puppies, just like that guy who hung around outside my school when I was a kid.
· He has a “Grotto” where his little elves (LITTLE) work for free (Like crack whores work for “Free”).
· He knows if you’ve been naughty or nice. HE’S WATCHING. I was always a right little cunt and that bastard kept giving me presents, in fact I swear I once heard a detached voice say “Ohh yeah, go on, that’s naughty, that’s REAL naughty”.
· The final clinching proof: THE CHRISTMAS STOCKING. Every year Saint Knickerless will put his hands (amongst other things) in children’s stockings AND LEAVE THEM LITTLE PRESENTS. If ANYONE in the world came round to your house, and did that to your kid’s legwarmers, you’d batter the fucker. But NO, everyone lets Santa do it, because “it IS Christmas”.

Ladies and Gentlemen (and Mzebonga) there is NO acceptable time of year for paedophilia, this menace MUST be stopped. If you see Santa in the street, on a float, or in his Crack Grotto, you let him know what you think of his actions, approach him quietly and TELL him “I KNOW WHAT YOU DO TO THOSE CHILDREN” and then leave. If the Santa pisses himself, he’s the real one, whereby you can kick the living shit out of him from me. I can guarantee that I’ll do the same.

Aside from Santa, Christmas is a pretty okay time of year, avoid the commercialism, I’m looking forward to returning home from uni and getting some food in me, I come back on Christmas eve, late at night, so I’ll crash when I get home and if THAT BITCH OF A MOTHER of mine hasn’t got the food on ready for me, there’ll be HELL to pay.

HELL.

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