It's Christmas time, band aid would have us believe. We'll, you know what, I can't wait till it's bloody over. All this running around for presents for people; I haven't a clue what tastes are. I'm just going to give everyone a great bug hug next year. What? Cheap Bastard! No way. I thought it was all about giving and love and shite like that. What greater display of love is there than a grown man hugging the living shit out of everything he meets for that single mind collapsing day? Nothing, so I might just give it a try.
What's all this Santa carry on. Oh, they say, Oh let's not let the kids get involved with those fucking pedos that interfere with children's front bums and that. And yet on the other hand, you, junior, sit on the old man's lap and talk about the first thing that comes up. Be consistent. Don't talk to strangers. Sit on creepy old man's knee. Santa brings presents. Santa doesn't exist, what do you want for Christmas? A punch up the bloody bracket!
But it's not all bad news. Yes it is. It's crazy. More people throw themselves off a tree only to break their fall with a rope round their neck than any other time of the year. Suicide is painless, the song tells us. Only for the human pendulum that swings in ever decreasing motion.
I think we should just do away with the whole Santa nonesense once and for all and just have a happy day when people are encouraged to give presents, or hugs, to one another just to promote the developement of society and kindness as a whole. There are still far too many arseholes in the world ready to sharpen their new habitat knives in some poor bastard's stomach. I still want to go to space either before or after I die. Life or death can't be much ironic than it is on this shitty rock.
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