Tag Archives: Santa Claus

Santa on a Pepsi Ad???

You not going to believe who Pepsi stole from the Coca-Cola family.

It’s Santa. Yes, the bearded icon that’s been with Coca-Cola for many decades has made his way into a recent Pepsi ad.  Call it what you will, but the cola wars, which started with the Pepsi Challenge in the late 1970s, will not die. And if Pepsi hadn’t stooped low enough, they stole the polar bears from Coke, too (see video below).

Well, if Summer time is Pepsi time, as this ad claims, then the rest of the year belongs to Coke, right?

Advertisements

Letter to Santa by Little Johnny

Poor Little Johnny. He wrote an angry letter to Santa Claus to express how much he was screwed the past Christmas. Enjoy! 😉

Dear Santa,

You must be surprised that I’m writing to you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month, when, with illusion, I wrote you my letter. I asked for a bicycle, an electic train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform. I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not gonna lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity. What balls you have leaving me a fuckin’ yo-yo, a lame-ass whistle and a pair of ugly socks! What the fuck were you thinking, you fat prick, that you’ve taken me for a sucker the whole fucking year to come out with some shit like THIS under the tree?! As if you hadn’t fucked me enough, you gave that little quiff across the street so many toys that he cannot even walk into his house! I’m warning you, Santa! Don’t let me see you trying to fit your fat ass down my chimney next year. I swear I will fuck you up. I’ll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you’ll have to walk back to the fucking North Pole…just like what I have to do now since you didn’t get me that fucking bike. FUCK YOU, SANTA!! Maybe next year, you’ll find out how bad I can REALLY be, YOU FAT COCK-SUCKER!!!

Sincerely,

Little Johnny

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas… in Connecticut

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through New Eng-land
Not a flurry was falling, but you wouldn’t understand
All the wreaths were hung, and the lights blinked along
Over 8 million Nutmeggers can’t be wrong

All of us slept snugly inside of our beds
While visions of tax cuts danced in our heads
Our state is in the crapper, no question about it
No reason to explain, I just wanna spout it

Santa could deliver lots and lots of toys
To all of the NUtmegger girls and boys
But, alas, America this year had to cut back
What disappointment for a lighter-loaded sack!

Did that stop Santa Claus? Hell to the no!
He found a way to increase the factory flow
He phoned China of all the places in the world
They sent him those toys, better yet, they hurled

He was a good driver, so we heard him exclaim,
Calling to summon all of his reindeer by name
On Bernanke! On Geithner! On Donald J. Trump!
Let’s make those kids smile in each one swift jump!

The whole town was dark, almost nothing was heard
You couldn’t hear a chirp of a singing bluebird
When what arose near me was such a clatter
I got up from bed to see what was the matter

It was old Saint Nick, or Joe Lieberman in disguise
It’s definitely Joe, I can tell by his eyes
His eyes were bloodshot, his nose like a cherry
His dimples, let’s not go there, it’s kinda scary

He would come down the chimney quick as a breeze
And spoil the people of Connecticut with ease
Every stocking had a plan about health care reform
As if he had worked out a Joe-mentous storm

When he was done, up the chimney he goes
The soot quickly filled the air as he rose
And I heard him exclaim in joyous pride,
“Merry Christmas, Connecticut, and Wess-SSSYYYYYDE!!!”

Santa Clause

All naughty kids beware: Evil Santa is watching you.

All naughty kids beware: Evil Santa is watching you.

If you listen to the lyrics of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” it is proof that Santa Claus is a stalker. And he’s watching every little boy and girl throughout the whole year. And you know how bad it feels to be watched 24/7. Without further ado, let’s break down the lyrics of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” into separate verses.

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I’m telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

Who are you to tell me I better not cry and I better not pout? You don’t know me! The first 5 lines of that song is a considered a threat — which is intended to  scare children. Children are forbidden to cry, and most importantly, forbidden to fuss around — until December 24th. To me, that’s kinda serial rapist-esque. Let me ask you something; does not crying and being good all year help the child at all? Of course not!

He’s making a list, and checking it twice
He’s gonna find out who’s naughty and nice

How creepy is that! Santa knows more about me than either of my parents does. That, my friends, is the TRUE work of a stalker. Kinda like Big-Brother-is-Watching-You speak. But I digress.

He sees you when you’re sleepin’
He knows when you’re awake
He knows if you’ve been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake

See? DEFINITELY stalker-ish. Or Santa works for the CIA. Or he’s a pedophile. Or all of those at once. No one ever knows. Santa keeps tabs on who is good or bad all year, so you better be good for goodness sake. And not just your own sake, but the sake of everyone else. Otherwise, you won’t get anything. Not exactly true. Santa does not care if the child has been bad or good; he rarely delivers on his promise. Being good all year and not crying and not pouting does NOT guarantee a mountain of presents underneath one’s tree, and driving one’s parents crazy by not listening to them won’t mean they will be empty-handed come Christmas morning.