Let's Keep Secret Santa a Secret

I hate Secret Santa. Secret Santa made a bong out of a Pocari Sweat soda. Hes STONED. World traveler is sneaky and stole a bunch of trash thats in a leaky glad bag from Star Bucks. Its on his back and he looks like real Santa. The kids love him cuz he looks PRESENTable even tho hes a bum. Give them a hit Secret Santa. Go on, turn them on to dubbage. Stoned clause lovers long for bong at Xmas, don't they, it aint no secret. Shhhhh Secret Santa is pissed. Im telling all his secrets to his entourage of kiddos. Oh well bitch, Clause Flaws are enriched in criminal spirit. And thus thy Holy Ghost will shitteth in your pretty flying deer carriage for stoning Cristian youths on Christmas. The ghost shit lingers and waifs with angel wings up to your moustached nostril. It is holy shit! And Secret Santa, this miasma from the Holy Ghost will wrinkle thy nose and wreck thy sleigh into a body of water tonight. It will flip on its belly, yet don't be alarmed S.S. You will be able to breath inside. As a pittance for your sin a pocket of air will reside for eternity in thy sleigh.
At some point that horny Donner will bobble up and you no doubt, yes, you will procreate with him I know it! Thus making deer sized sea monkeys that will havoc up the ocean. Why kill Christmas for the innocent sea animals!
These "Santa's little hoofers"(deer seamonkeys) will after years of exploring will eventually find the beloved S.S. Titanic. Oh dear, they will then aid the offspring of the children (now deaf n dumb adults) in the air pocket of the Titanic. Fiendish creatures these Titanic Kids are, and at times you can hear them crying bad songs they learned from their parents on the AM dial when you raft over the wreckage. The music from this era is spine chunking. Its even worse when sung by flounder raised feral friends in hallow hulls of the Titanic."Roll out the Barrel" loses its festive charm when sung by Helen Kellers, its awesome in its sadness. I secretly have come to love it.
The Titanic Kids are blind and when buoyed up they will be boiled in bad judgement and create so many mistakes that the Land Lubbers will have to put them down. Think about it S.S., Land Lubbers will have a cow when they spot blind creatures in old clothes being walked by hoofed sea monkeys singing Xmas carols. Its official, Santa really does spell Satan when its stoned screwing deer under a sleigh in the middle of the arctic ocean. I realize now that nothing we do will stop your Secret Santa cockcoffinknee. Lets just ignore you then, and go about our Jesus Jam soberly. Just everyone please keep Secret Santa a Secret for b-day Jesus's sake! All I want for Christmas is for the Titanic Tykes to stay alive for my Ham radio enjoyments.

Cheers,
Hollis

Davey, Davey Cock It

Everyone knows about Davey Crockett's coonskin hat. But why does no one talk about his very innovative coonskin boots? These things were like a terra forma trout line out in the woods. Ol Davey wood runaround hunting and all them horny coons would see that tail jiggling and run after his furred feet. Ol Davey would just cock it back n shoot. A horny coon never had a chance. Dead male coons were spermed up and had a very tender tangy meat. Plus the hydes could make all kinds of apparel from hats, boots, and thongs with a novelty coon tail penis. He sold the later at Spencer’s Mercantile which later became Spencer Gifts.
Shooting coons was good money but he had to deal with them horny hauntings. Zombie coons would come out at night looking for coon poon and bite on his shoeless sleep feet. He would kick on his bed roll all night and holler and cry in sorrow for them dead coons. He was like the King of The Wild Frown Tears in the evenings. Then by day it was like he had zero feelings at all running around with a raccoon head ontop of his own and slingin a virgin coons backside tail dong with pelt between his cheeks. Despicable demeanor Davey, I hope them zombie coons finally consummate your feet and impregnate those corns with coons wearing Davey dong thongs.

I Hope My Filthy Head is in Some Crosshairs.

Sept 5th, I think-

Larvae made base camp in ear. Its been full gestation cycle and little ones I see and feel coming out of canal. Post traumatic syndrome has nothing on me at this time. Tied buoy parts and hemp rope around hands to keep from scratching my ears off. Lost hope of anyone looking for me. Ass is wet, itchy, and red. Mouth is so chapped its shriveled into a pucker that cannot move open or close. There is about enuff open to get coconut juice swallows in and mushed banana. If anyone did spot me they would turn the boat around and report back about the creature boy on deserted island. I just hope the authorities shoot me in the head . I cant take anymore suffering. If I could id break down and cry a glass of thirst quenching tears, but we all know I can't.