Ho ho ho. Hello, boys and girls. It’s your old friend, Santa Claus with a special Christmas message just for you.
Oh ho ho. But I’m not your grandma’s Santa Claus. I murdered that fat fuck 20 years ago. As a punishment, the Frost Fairy turned me into Dirty Baby Santa. Which, I have to admit, I’m kinda cool with.
I mean, do you know how much tail a baby-sized Santa gets?
If I wasn’t baby-sized and dirty, I’ll admit, I might get better quality poon, but definitely not a higher quantity if you catch my drift. Ho ho ho.
Goddamn it. Damn cat won’t stop sniffing my ass. Yeah! I poop my pants! I’m a fucking baby, for Christ’s sake. Now everybody knows. Proud of yourself? I’ll bet you are. Damn cat. Ho ho.
Most of the time (when I’m not getting *ahem* serviced) I like to just sit on my crappy Sears sofa and chill out. You know. Curl up with my best friends Jack Daniels and Mary Jane. It’s the only way I can dull the voices that are constantly screaming in my head. Ho.
I know. I’m a very bad Santa. Santa need a nice rough spanking.
You don’t feel like playing with my ass? Well, how about a little head? ho ho ho.
But seriously. I”ll blow you without a condom. For five bucks.
So there you have it. It’ll be me ramming my yule log down your chimney this year and filling your stockings to the brim. So how about you shitcan the cookies and milk? Huh? Dirty Baby Santa prefers pornography and liquor. I see even one fucking chocolate chip and you can forget about a present. Fuck. I’ll burn your house down.
Merry Christmas, assholes.
Dirty Baby Santa