Thursday 24 December 2015

Why I Kill Santa


Some years ago I was living this lass named Jan, she was a single mother with 3 children from different dads but insisted that things would change and that her next child would be conceived within matrimony. Old Knudsen respected her need to take a hold of her life so we did everything but actual sex.

I noticed that Jan was letting herself go a bit, turns out she was pregnant. Old Knudsen was over joyed, did some Knudsen jizz find it's way in?

Then my werld came crashing doon. She told me how Santa came round in June while I was at werk to install hidden cameras about the hoose in order to watch the children and during that time he used his magical Santa charm to come early.

 Yes, her legs where that hairy. 

I know what yer thinking, Santa is made up .... change the letters in Santa and you have Satan, his biggest trick was making an elephant disappear in Vegas once, his second biggest trick is convincing you that he doesn't exist.


The same shit went down with Mary and Joseph, these magical beings think they can do as they please. I hunted down all the hidden cameras, even the one hidden in the potpourri in the bathroom, then I started my plans.

 

Every Christmas eve I'd wait for the fucker and then kill him. Some times I'd see him at malls or collecting money for charity, I'd get him then too but you kill one and another is born. This explains my hatred for Santa and I'll keep killing the fucker till he admits to what he did.

 
He shape shifts and he lies but I know his ways. If you have an elf on the shelf I urge you to remove his eyes and to put bear traps on yer roof.
I once laced his milk and cookies with laxative then like a Komodo dragon I followed the trail and finished off the weaken dehydrated single mother fucker.

Jan was soon afterwards known as 4X4 but soon had enough kids for a football team, Old Knudsen dodged the bullet there. Maybe killing Santa has become a habit, it doesn't make me feel better .... aye it gives me an erection but it's more about just having something to do.     

No comments: