- Joined
- Dec 3, 2009
- Messages
- 9,285
- Reaction score
- 332
- Location
- Duncanville, Texas
- My Bike Models
- 1981 GL1100 Innerstate("The Turd")SOLD!!, 1996 GL1500 Innerstate
Dear Everyone,
Okay, let me start off by saying that I've never done this before because, in the past, it hasn't been an issue. I've never had to actually respond to the letters that get sent to me. For all the years I've been doing this (delivering presents and whatnot), the process has been fairly simple: Folks write me letters explaining what they want- If you're good, you get what you ask for. If you're a dipshit, I find something in your house that looks important, and then I take a **** on it.
This is Santa Law, and has been for centuries.
But this year? Frankly, Santa's a little beside himself. Time was, you folks would ask for toys, video games, clothing, that sort of thing. Nothing I couldn't take care of. But I just got my latest batch of letters in and, to be honest, I don't know how I'm going to handle Christmas this time around. I am truly at a loss this year. Every ******* letter is from some crybaby wanting me to do something about the economy, recession, what-the-****-ever. What's up with this ****?
I like getting letters that say "Santa, I want a skateboard." Wanna know why? Because Santa can make a skateboard. Santa can make a skateboard in his ******* sleep, okay? Dolls, too, and video games. You ask for them, and that **** will be under your tree in the morning, you feel me? Bam! Santa's your hero.
But, seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do this year? Just about every letter is like this.
I remember the year Tickle-Me-Elmo's were big. The elves were all pissed off because, after making so many dolls, their fingers were stained red with the dye. That used to be our biggest problem. Red dye. And now I have to worry about some bastard's house and the stability of Little Susie McWhogivesashit's family? Did I miss something? When the hell did Santa become God? For real, no, somebody tell me, because I wanna know.
These cocksuckers totally blindsided me with that recession stuff. I start reading and I'm all "Oh, cool, this kid's gonna ask for a blue baseball or whatever," and then wham, I get hit with recession issues.
I don't even know what caused these problems, but the letters just get worse and worse. What the hell do I do? The kid asks me to reverse the economic recession, but all I know how to do is hand out Xboxes. Will that fix it? Santa doesn't know much about finances, because Santa didn't go to college. It's a friggin' miracle I can read.
Can you ******* believe this? That kids don't even sign them. No return address, nothing. That **** just showed up at my house one day. What am I supposed to do with that? Unless a Tamagotchi is going to clear everything up and make that kid's pain go away, Santa is out of his league.
Let's get something straight: Santa delivers toys. That is what he ************* does, okay? I really don't think I should be responsible for solving a problem that, frankly, you ******** got yourselves into in the first place. That is just not on Santa's to-do list. Your economy's screwed up? That's on you, that's your thing, and unless you want, like, a Cabbage Patch Something-or-other or a Magic Pony that backflips or whatever, do not write letters to me. Fix your own damn economy, and call Santa when you want a Furby. I'm getting too old for this ****.
Up Yours,
Santa Claus.
Okay, let me start off by saying that I've never done this before because, in the past, it hasn't been an issue. I've never had to actually respond to the letters that get sent to me. For all the years I've been doing this (delivering presents and whatnot), the process has been fairly simple: Folks write me letters explaining what they want- If you're good, you get what you ask for. If you're a dipshit, I find something in your house that looks important, and then I take a **** on it.
This is Santa Law, and has been for centuries.
But this year? Frankly, Santa's a little beside himself. Time was, you folks would ask for toys, video games, clothing, that sort of thing. Nothing I couldn't take care of. But I just got my latest batch of letters in and, to be honest, I don't know how I'm going to handle Christmas this time around. I am truly at a loss this year. Every ******* letter is from some crybaby wanting me to do something about the economy, recession, what-the-****-ever. What's up with this ****?
I like getting letters that say "Santa, I want a skateboard." Wanna know why? Because Santa can make a skateboard. Santa can make a skateboard in his ******* sleep, okay? Dolls, too, and video games. You ask for them, and that **** will be under your tree in the morning, you feel me? Bam! Santa's your hero.
But, seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do this year? Just about every letter is like this.
I remember the year Tickle-Me-Elmo's were big. The elves were all pissed off because, after making so many dolls, their fingers were stained red with the dye. That used to be our biggest problem. Red dye. And now I have to worry about some bastard's house and the stability of Little Susie McWhogivesashit's family? Did I miss something? When the hell did Santa become God? For real, no, somebody tell me, because I wanna know.
These cocksuckers totally blindsided me with that recession stuff. I start reading and I'm all "Oh, cool, this kid's gonna ask for a blue baseball or whatever," and then wham, I get hit with recession issues.
I don't even know what caused these problems, but the letters just get worse and worse. What the hell do I do? The kid asks me to reverse the economic recession, but all I know how to do is hand out Xboxes. Will that fix it? Santa doesn't know much about finances, because Santa didn't go to college. It's a friggin' miracle I can read.
Can you ******* believe this? That kids don't even sign them. No return address, nothing. That **** just showed up at my house one day. What am I supposed to do with that? Unless a Tamagotchi is going to clear everything up and make that kid's pain go away, Santa is out of his league.
Let's get something straight: Santa delivers toys. That is what he ************* does, okay? I really don't think I should be responsible for solving a problem that, frankly, you ******** got yourselves into in the first place. That is just not on Santa's to-do list. Your economy's screwed up? That's on you, that's your thing, and unless you want, like, a Cabbage Patch Something-or-other or a Magic Pony that backflips or whatever, do not write letters to me. Fix your own damn economy, and call Santa when you want a Furby. I'm getting too old for this ****.
Up Yours,
Santa Claus.
