It's the holiday birth of Christ season, which means we're all bitter, tired, and ready to murder Jesus just for having a birthday. Why all the stress with the b-day, Jesus? I'm so bitter and exhausted right now, I'm getting my mother a box of tampons covered in glitter for Christmas.
What? It's useful, and girls like sparkly stuff.
Anyway, the only thing that could possibly relieve this agitation is to answer a few letters. Or rather, insult a few loyal readers. Let's start with Lisa from California, who is mad because her little brother read my "Santa Claus isn't real" column. Mind you, she's not mad because it's cruel to tell kids Santa isn't real. She's mad because there were curse words in the column.
it just so happens that my little brother was looking for proof on if santa was real or not so then he came across your website he read all the swears boob rubing,ass squeezing and peanus sucking you mentioned now he is going up yo his little frends and they are repeating i would love to sit here and complain but i have a kid to talk to about SOME launguage issues from the internet
Peanus sucking? Holy shit, that's ten times funnier than anything I've ever written. Is that like when the late Charles Schultz gets a blowjob? But getting to the meat of the matter, in this day and age, how am I responsible for protecting kids from bad content? This website is blocked by every internet content restriction possible. You can set the IE controls to "medium", and this site will likely be blocked.
We have AOL parental controls, Apple parental controls, and a billion other free parental controls available online. And if that doesn't work, you could try actually watching the kids. That way they could learn about peanus sucking from Charles Schultz, like all children should.
Our next letter is from Zahkieer in Pennsylvania.
Zahkieer? Is that a robot?
i want to have sex with you. put nake pictures of you on here.
I'm gonna say "no" to this one. Why? Because I'd like to have more than one reader for Friday's column, that's why.
Our next letter is from Brian in Brooklyn, NY. Unlike lord robot Zahkieer, Brian wants some of my literary nakedness.
Every year I host a party where people come and read poetry, show their art work, perform music they've written and I was thinking about performing your "skit with naked people in it." I can't afford to pay you for it, and I will make no money off of it, so would you mind. The party in the past has had it's share of nudity, so if you have any other nude skits in it, that would be cool. Let me know.
This is truly the mark of a beautiful Christmas season. Not only has my writing inspired laughter, it's also going to be used to inspire people at an orgy party. Not only did I tell Brian he could use my naked people skit column at his party, but I tried to get myself invited. No response. Imagine that, me not being invited to a party.
Now that I've ruined the holiday Jesus through the vagina season with profanity, the truth about Santa, and inappropriate fellatio comments about a dead cartoonist, it's time to go back to getting ready for Christmas. Which, for me, means dressing in nothing but a bow and sitting underneath Baby Spice's Christmas tree until she calls the police. Or the bobbies. Or whatever former Spice Girls call when someone actually recognizes one of them.
Sorry Zahkieer, but I won't be taking photos.
