No he is. I’ll go even further if I find his rotund body round mine again I’ll feckin’ knee cap him.
Year after bloody year I have the same item at the top of my Christmas list. Year after bloody year his fatness gives me the item that is sooo far down on the list it has dropped off the bottom and fallen down a mine shaft. I don’t need more socks you fat feck. What I need is the item at the top of my list.
How feckin’ hard is it to get me Heather Graham, Heather Locklear and Angelina Jolie for one night of mad passion? Ok one night maybe an over statement of my prowess between the bed sheets. 20 seconds if they were lucky, on a good night possibly, then they would have to entertain their selves for the rest of the time.
But even so my list said Heather Graham, Heather Locklear and Angelina Jolie and not feckin’ socks.
Just what is it that you have got against me Santa? Is it because as a little boy I wouldn’t jump and wiggle around on your knee like all the other kids? You sick perverted feck, just because I wouldn’t play your little Michael Jacksonesq games. You have to go and punish me later in life.
Santa is it you putting the frighteners on Gordon Brown? I was only the other day pondering on here why the feck does he hate me so much.
Just once Your Seasonally Plumpness, just f’in once would you please give me Heather Graham, Heather Locklear and Angelina Jolie for one night of down right degrading disgusting drug and fetish fuelled sex? A sock on the willy just doesn’t even compare, and you know it.