Despite the wherefores and hereas, aye, bitterly indeed but not to any avail by which a man may profit by goode kind or foul. And hence it is known as nevermore, indeed, the very essence thereunto, lest anyone should confuse the demeanor of it all.
What say you? I myself do say, and aloud: that is absolutely motherfucking disturbing... but perchance you do not agree? And since it is so, or possibly so, I left but a little space where you might resoundingly reply. But in all fairness no one is likely to think less of you, should you, by some chance of fate, not chose to enter therein it is no harm or foul.
Enter reply here (in the allotted space below) :
Now then, let us consider the discourse, lest we become dumbfounded and loose our way along these fine lines of thought... truly what mischeif that would be? For any man knows that “i” comes before “e” except after “c” and etc etc so on and so forth. Now then, grab tight yer fur bunny, the one mummy gave you when you were but small and tally ho... away we go onto 'yon sayings...
Having struck down our fair share of gin and tonics, or otherwise the drink of our choice, and no longer able to speak proper the language to which we were borne... now we shall proceed henceforth as did our fathers before us, and our father's fathers (save perhaps for those of us, naughty creatures and not nice, whom were fathered by clones or even fouler creatures than these... ) whom, jacked most fully off their asses by a pint or more of fine scotts whiskey mixed with apple cider so hot, had posed so merrily every holiday in red fluffy flannel jackets and tied onto their heads and faces long white wigs, for which however dear he be to such gentile folk as thee, olde Santa Claus shall not kindly come visit thee (those naughty and wretched creatures whom were fathered by clones or even fouler creatures than these... ) but duly beat thee about the head and shoulders with a flannel sock full of coal and lice (no doubt ill-gotten from the wretched wigs, heathenous bastards what sold it to them!)
And hence for those of us whom are of the Judaic persuasion it is no offense I suppose, should we come thither and beat also upon thee? Hast we but to bring our own coal and sock moste foul... or will ya kindly loan us yours?
Oh what grande thought to incline to, only finding that we be not inclining but, nay, fouly tipped since like they whom came before have we tipped but a little more than was nice to arise to such an occasion by? Ye gods, what have aye donne? Pale shadow of a woman, black widow!! Pale and wretched shadow of a woman, you black widow of a woman! How could ya but to drive a man to drink to such an extent as these?!? Gunther, you suck the shit off eternity's asshole in the grande cosmic scheme of things!
But indeed it was said, on judgement day the Lord God made Adam and made he Eve much fairer and Adam has been weeping... or, by some accounts, giggling, hysterically ever since. Never minde which, do but pass that bottle of wicked brew, the sock and coal and the blonde bitche too... ya didn't think you were keeping her did ya? Nay ya rogue menace, not even. 'Tis a fact that I'm, personally, acquainted to several mean-spirited reindeer what can fly amazing quick and will sorely drop your ass from any height I desire over any location the Earth hath to offer thee for soft or sad landing! Nay thou fool, hand her here!
Now then, what were we to saying? I much and you naught, but foul it is because you cannot reply much in all of this... truth is truth (and those bleeding reindeer really will drop your ass from any height I so desire.... that's a fact!) glad to be me and not thee, but sadly Gunther's damned near done us both in. [Tips one to Gunther and then spits over his left shoulder and curses in the ancient tradition to ward off the evil asshole, puckered relative of the evil eye, or at least a fair way of expressing displeasure towards another who isn't present...]
So then, on this the last weeke before Christmas, when not a single Jew was stirring, much like the mouse, how surprised were you to find it posted outright and here? We'll deck the halls with fallen bodies and even Rudolph wants a piece of yer asses, tied to my sleigh tonite, so it's how the reindeer love ya... can't blame them, they been couped up for damned near 40,000 years with nothing to do (shit, best I can tell they were happy to see something finally came along, can't be easy twiddling one's thumb for that long, now can it?) On Dasher, on Donner, on Cupid and Blitzen, on Donna and Trisha on who-the-fuck-ever because frankly I tied lots of other REALLY interesting things to that damned sleigh and if ever worse comes to worse... I know exactly what I'll do. Meantime the reindeers sorely wanna talk to your chump asses and I have to go to the nearest little General for anothwer pack of smokes.
Humph. Bachor. Amjam, Amjammers, 'Jammer technologies. 'Jammer zombies. 'Jammer clones. 'Jammer 'droids. Programming-out, overwriting, 'droiding-out, cloning-out, stapling bending folding and mutilating motherfuckers by the millions and by the billions. Oh do have a happye holiday!!