Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.

Christmas Eve is no picnic for me, Mrs Claus, either

Hello there, Mrs Claus here. Or Green Claws as the kids in school used tomrs.-claus call me when they caught me picking my nose. An elf had the cheek to call me that when I was putting a load of mistletoe up one year and I soon wiped the smile off of her face, the skinny little bitch. I don’t tolerate sluts in my household and she was one of the worst, always strutting about in those tight red legging of hers. Always giggling and stroking her thin ears and pronounced cheek bones around whenever a man was within earshot – let’s see what a month of barn duty with the reindeers does for her complexion. Dasher’s digestive system goes to hell if he isn’t given his medication in time.

This evening I have to make sure that Santa’s costume is kept warm on the radiator before he goes out. I swear he never listens to me and one day he will catch the death of cold if I am not there to make sure he is wrapped up tight. One year he went out with odd socks on! Can you imagine it he looked a right state. Good job that it was in the days before iPhones and Androids so there were no snotty little brats to take pictures of him. I tell you, it is divorce time if some clever dick catches him looking like a scruff and makes a George Bush video of an Iraqi throwing shoes at him.

I used to wait up for hubby each night, worried sick about what might happen to him as he flies over enemy territory such as Russia, Iran, and the South Pole. I tell you, those penguins down in Antarctica hate him for some reason and I don’t care how cute they look on TV. David Attenborough, typical man, thinks he knows it all on those BBC nature documentaries but the moment his back is turned, those waddling birds go back to plotting dastardly deeds against us.

He better not go anywhere near that Easter Bunny; I’ve seen the way she looks at him. Sometimes, I just wish he would crash into a wall and leave me in peace.

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20 responses to “Christmas Eve is no picnic for me, Mrs Claus, either

  1. International Woman of Mystery 12/24/2011 at 12:16 PM

    HO HO HO Mrs Claus!

    Merry Christmas my dear, you sound like a well balanced and perky individual. May I ask how you intend to spend the night on your own? Elf orgy or a bottle of Lambrini and a copy of Beaches?

  2. Anna 12/24/2011 at 1:49 PM

    Happy Christmas Michael!

  3. breezyk 12/24/2011 at 2:53 PM

    haha you have such a great imagination.. I hate slutty elves too, Mrs. Claus!
    Merry Christmas 🙂

  4. mooselicker 12/24/2011 at 2:55 PM

    As someone who has a picture of 3 penguins as their picture, I can speak for them all. They hate Santa because of his bright shirts. They’re stuck wearing black and white all year long. Some of them have a little yellow too. It’s not fair. They’ve made peace with the polar bears. There’s no need for them to hide anymore.

  5. Pete Howorth 12/24/2011 at 3:20 PM

    Merry Christmas Cargers! Hope you have a good un 🙂

  6. Adair 12/24/2011 at 3:26 PM

    I learned all I know about penguins from ‘Madagascar’, so, I am fully aware of their devious minds. If I were Mrs. C, I’d put my feet up and have Slut Elf give me a proper pedicure. Having to scrape 2″ of dried skin from my heels should make her beg to go back to Barbie inspection duty.

    Have a Merry, Michael. Or, have some one else have a Merry Michael. Either way sounds fun!

  7. No Blog Intended 12/24/2011 at 4:30 PM

    Say something bad about penguins and deal with me. *cracks knuckles*

  8. kickingsport 12/24/2011 at 11:51 PM

    Top work as always. Merry Christmas!

  9. aFrankAngle 12/28/2011 at 2:30 AM

    A little late … Merry Christmas … and I still have gifts under the tree, so feel free to pick.
    http://afrankangle.wordpress.com/2011/12/24/on-a-time-for-gifts/

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