Friday, December 22, 2006
Some Final Letters from the Big Fat Man...
A final few letters from the mailbag of the
Big Fat Man...
The letter
Santa received-
Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan
The response
Santa sent-
Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Two words, Jim Beam.
Santa
The letter
Santa received-
Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas
The response
Santa sent-
Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made by little kids like you in China Every year I give them a slice of bread as a Christmas bonus. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table.
Santa,
P.S. Tell your mom she got the part.
Long Dong Claus,
And now for the grand finale... this is the letter
Santa received-
Dear Tubby Bitch,
Remember back in the 80's when I asked for a radio control car and you got me fucking Micromachines? You fat fucker. Time for some retribution. This year I would like two things.
First I want my assets unfrozen by the fucking courts from the credit card my ex-wife put me in debt for. As you may know I get paid electronically so for the last two weeks I have been without one fucking penny to my name... which also means said ex-wife is not getting the child support she needs and is starting some shit which will only get worse because while I have gifts for 4 out of the 5 kids, Blinky's Slushee machine had eluded me until this week. Unfortunately of course I was unable to liberate said Slushee machine from the retailers due to the frozen account. You need to resolve this with that magical little wiggling nose of yours so my fucking holiday does not go down as the absolute worse ever.
Second I want you to run my ex-wife over with the reindeer and leave grandma the fuck alone you drunk driving asshat.
If for some reason you are unable to deliver on these two items... you're done. I will go to the ends of the universe to beat your plump fat ass into a bloody mess with my second most favoritest gift I have ever gotten... my Uncle Louisville. Kabeesh?
Peace and Love,
The Puppy Monster
The response
Santa sent-
Dear Puppy Monster,
I'd be careful about calling other people tubby if I were you bub. You ain't no slim thang ya know?
As for the assets, take your ass over to the bank with the Uncle and you should be able to get your money. I got a friend in the biz who pushed your release through. Consider that payback for the micro-machines. If not... use Uncle... and then tell Bubba that I got him what he wanted... a nice tight-ass cracker for breakfast.
As for that second bit with grandma, why don't you buy her some damn glasses so she knows where she's walking? It clearly states Deer Xing and yet every year her old bag of bones is on the path. How about this, next time don't fall in love with someone who's going to rip your heart out of your chest, shit down your throat, and lift your wallet at the same time? Oh, and yeah, that includes your current latent crush you fucking moron.
If you'd ever wise up I might take you on as my own ambassador of Peace and Love. I like your style and could use it at the homes of the leaders of those third world countries wanting stupid shit like food or a toilet. I'm tired of wearing the red... orange is the new red dontcha know?
Peace to your crew and your grandma too,
Satan
Yeah... so maybe there really is a
Santa Claus...
Posted by New York City's Watchdog ::
12/22/2006 12:24:00 PM :: Permalink ::
3 Bones Added to the Pile
Pick a Bone
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