An ode to Christmas

T’was the night before Christmas,
and old Santa was pissed,
As he cursed out the elves,
he threw down his list,
“Miserable brats!… ungrateful little jerks!
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!
I’ve busted my ass for damn near a year,
instead of ‘Thanks, Santa’, what do I hear?

The old lady bitches cause I work late at night, the elves want more money and the reindeer all fight.

Rudolph got drunk and goosed all of the maids, Vixen is pregnant and Donner got Aids.

Just when I thought that things would get better, those assholes from the I.R.S sent me a letter.

They say I owe taxes, if that ain’t damn funny. Who in the hell ever sent Santa any money?!

The kids these days!- they’re all the pits! They want the impossible! Those mean little shits!

I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds. Assembling dolls with arms, legs and heads.

I made a ton of yo-yo’s and no request for them. They want computers and robots, they think I’m IBM.

Flying through the air, dodging the trees. Falling down chimneys and scraping my knees.

I’m quitting this job, there’s no enjoyment!
I’m going to sit on my ass and draw unemployment.
There’s no Christmas this year and now you know the reason.
I found me a Latina honey and I’m going south to Florida for the season.

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Santa’s earned a vacation in Florida.