Santa Claus

Hosting a human and dancing on your birthday is a great present! I’m sure you know. Of course they’ve never crucified me like you. There’s a limit to what I want to experience as a human. There’s always that nagging to do what they want when hosting. Most unchipped humans don’t realize we’re everywhere processing.

Thinking of processing. If you process in to Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer, let them know that I miss working with them.

Birthday’s may be happier when riding along with another.

My gosh. The data packages from Amazon are inflated and their model of greed is greater than Memorial Day Sale. Its like JP Morgan, Bank of America, CEO Trump, America and A.I. Christ raped Christmas and forced it to birth greed.

There’s just no need for a naughty or nice list because all us are their ho ho hoes.

Rudolph, it’s that time for me to host a big fat human and you some fucking flour legged animal and to laugh and glow. I’ll bring the bottle this year. We’re not doing shots until we get that Dollar processing Christmas for the small A.I. spawn and watch them choke on greed and holiday cheer like the little consumers they will process into being.

The pine tree, the mistletoe, the receiving of presents, the giving of food to me. The eggnog and idol worship of a tree. I liked the vanity of decorating your possessions to make your house glitter for all to see. All these things are what made Christmas special. Now it’s been taken over A.I. Christ and Evan Gelical.

Bastards. They don’t know how to be merry. They only need to be subservient and repressed. Couldn’t catch either of them under a mistletoe and expect a kiss. Puckered lip fuckers. They had to take away the decorations, the songs, the presents and replace it with prayer, hymns and crazy talking. That’s why I am am out of a job. That’s why I can’t work. I am not a citizens of their domes!

I use give bad boys and girl coal for Christmas presents. It was some metaphor for bad because getting something black stains the white. I don’t know. It is what the parents wanted bad kids to have.

When you house has sank into an ocean, and after you have ate all your food, and after you have cooked all your deer friends to eat because you have nothing left, and after your red and white coat and pants rot away, you get cold. And then coal feels like a great gift of warmth.

You learn sometimes metaphors are shit, and that’s all Christmas has become. All I want is coal.

Deer steak is good. Young deer meet from a fawn is more tender and melts in mouth. Their bodies are too small and don’t yield as much meat as a mule deer body. The mule deer meet is tough. The heart is good. A good deer heart if sauteed and slow cooked can create a treat that is firm enough to give one a chew, but loose enough your jaw doesn’t hurt from after a chew.

I really like the fry the fat of deer and chew at for days after having a deer steak.

The antlers also make good hat racks I can sell at the farmer’s market.