Christmas Songs Detailing the Sordid Saga of Santa’s Elfskin Boots
(Hark! The Herald Angels Sing) Hush! Santa will hear our plotting, He’s gone mad, brain is rotting. We should organize a coup, Before he makes new boots from you.
(Hark! The Herald Angels Sing) Hush! Santa will hear our plotting, He’s gone mad, brain is rotting. We should organize a coup, Before he makes new boots from you.
As for the incalculable diminished commercial value you have caused us in previous years, we are willing to settle for a one-time $8 billion settlement.
I’ve been silently scorning them for years and I’m ready to take it up a notch—with a decapitated horse head and powerful pagan curses.
At 1,559 years old, I’m not getting any younger. And a woman has to do what she can to make it through this cold, ice-hard world.
Remember the true meaning of the holiday: Getting some $15 shit from Target and being done with it.
If you hear Wham!’s “Last Christmas” at Trader Joe’s, stop shopping immediately and guzzle a 32 oz. carton of eggnog. Post #Whamanogageddon!
Now, instead of giving off the "vibes" of a Hallmark movie, I'm basically just a glorified lasso wrapped around your windowsill.
I know I told you no animal print this year, but boy am I glad you didn't listen! Again. For the third year in a row.
Just like you, with some strategic bright lights and a huge painted-on smile, I make it look like everything is peachy keen.
The thank-you note was from Whiskers, Sam Meowliot, and Purrt Russell. They also showed their gratitude by leaving some fur in the cookies.
I used to think that I was important, that I was original. But I am just an imitation. I’m the adornment, not the adorned.
Icicle Lights: You're here for the theater. The holiday season is about drama. You are not obligated to follow any HOA rules.