A Christmas Letter of Gratitude and Christmas Cheer
from Mack Daddy
Christmas is about family over dickheads. Love over hate. Shiracha over oatmeal. I’m going to celebrate the shit out of this holiday season, fucking A. I'm ready to jolly my ass off like forty going north.
I don’t know about you all, but I can’t wait to get some fresh, organic, free trade mistletoe from Whole Foods pinned up over my front door for some hot mistletoe action. Anybody comes through that door – I’m on your ass. I’m gonna call up all my bitches, hey baby, come see what I got for you, a big load of straight up Christmas cheer. You’re either ready for this happy horseshit or you’re just never gonna be.
Gonna throw some magic beans in that Salvation Army bucket on my way to score me some serious Christmas tree at the Trees for Jesus sale in the parking lot of the Baptist Church. Got my limited edition Bugs Bunny lights my mom got me when I was a little shit, and it makes me cry. I got sensitive as shit feelings I ain’t gonna hide from you assholes anymore. Gonna hang my tinsel icicles on that tree, all artfully scattered and haphazard like a blizzard just came through and fucked that shit up.
My man Santa Claus, he’s coming to town to pound some heavy holiday cheer in your ass. Gonna make him some high holy oatmeal and raisin cookies with some pricey macadamia nuts shit going on, and put that by the chimney with an adorable Krausberg porcelain Rudolf mug of some raw milk – that’s what I said fuckers – RAW steaming from the cow, fucking milk, get over it, get that hamster out of your ass and wrap your minds around this artisan raw milk shit, totally underground raw milk, illegal as fucking a donkey, but I got connections, I got people. This shit just got real for you didn’t it? That’s what real life’s like out here in the world of savage nature. Real. Raw. Raw milk like you’d suck off a cow's tits while you’re getting her off with your other hand. If you can’t handle the truth about where food comes from then that’s just your big bag of dicks to get through. I ain’t protecting you from real life anymore.
And my man Santa Claus, he’s coming to town. Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice, check this shit out. Now this shit just got real - didn’t it get real? So now you’re all like What? And so my man Santa’s like I’m coming to town motherfucker, I’m coming for you. And you’re like Who me? And so Santa’s like Fuck yeah you, who you think I’m talking to, motherfucker? And so you’re like I been good, and Santa’s like I got my list and so now you’re all up in your little pink panties like that ain’t me on that list, Santa baby, and my man Santa’s like who you think motherfucker, I got that list, checkin it twice, see which a you fuzzy fuckheads is naughty and nice, and you’re all like I been sweet as shit man, and Santa’s like fuck that shit, I know you clean through, I know you like God knows you, I know shit about you your mama don’t know and if you been naughty I’m gonna fuck your shit up and bitch slap you to April Fools Day and back.
Its all over now, baby blue. It’s all coming down, the sky is falling, its the bad days, the old days, the real days, Baby Jesus, Elves, sleigh bells that jing a ling, reindeer and red noses and shit, its all real. This is the season of real. Snow, raw milk, Bugs Bunny lights, Santas on his way for your ass and he’s pissed. Get your shit squared away, get your balls out of the blender -
- and have yourself a merry little Christmas.