Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride

December 21, 2011

Here’s an oldie but a goodie. A scary, scary goodie. I’ve dug deep in the holiday archives for this one. Say hi to an old friend.

from December 8, 2007

Hi kids! Your drunken pal Mr. Know-It-All here. Somebody told me that Christmas is coming. It was that tattoo guy down on 13^th street, under the train, in the old box next to the dumpster. He does great work, but I can’t remember why I had to take my pants off for an arm tattoo and why do I have these strange tattoos on my cock? They kind of look like teeth marks. Shit that crystal meth fucks you up.

But in the spirit of Christmas, I’ve got some letters to Santa I found in my office last week. Funny, I don’t remember having a big oak desk in my office, and who were all those strange people in the pictures on the wall? I must have also hired a new secretary because this one didn’t recognize me at all. For some reason I also don’t remember my office being all blurry and headachy. Mr. Know-It-All hasn’t gotten a paycheck in a while either.

Anyway, it is my pleasure to answer these questions. I love Christmas. For a long time they called me Mr. Mistletoe Pants. (The trick is to hang it off your belt right above your crotch.)

So here is letter numero uno:

Dear Santa,
This is from Marisa, Victoria and Katie. Please bring us something nice for Christmas. Please bring Mommy and Daddy something nice too!!
Have a safe trip and a Merry Christmas.

We love you,
The Wager’s Girls

Hey girls, no problem. Tell Daddy those divorce papers went through and tell Mommy that her test was positive for Chlamydia. And write back when you grow up to be the Wager’s Women. 36D and above, please.

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I’ll try to bring more seasonal sunshine to the next poor kid.

Dear Mrs Claus,
Please tell Santa that we would like to ask for a Sony Playstation and the following games – Colin McCrae Rally, and Command and Conquer Retaliation. We have been good boys and have been doing our homework. It would be nice to get a couple of surprises too.

Gareth and Andrew Gone

Who the fuck do you think you are, dickshine? Who the fuck writes to MRS. Claus? That bitch better be in the kitchen making dinner for Santa and practicing her deep knee bends. When Mr. K-I-A was married he had his wife barefoot and pregnant on her wedding day. The only word she said was “more.” Then she bought a gun and the rest you can look up in the New York Times.

Anyway kid, you got a look of friggin’ nerve asking for- Hey? Your name is “Gareth?” “Gareth Gone?” I take it back kid, you better have great big balls the way your family fucked you.

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Dear Santa:
Hi. My name is Ryan Smith, I’m 15 months old. I have tried my best to be a good boy. But I have an older sister and we sometimes don’t get along. I don’t like to share. My Mommy is helping me to e-mail you. I would like a Lights and Sounds Ernie and a surprise gift for Christmas. I like suprises. I hope that all is well in the North Pole and I guess you are all really busy getting ready for Christmas Eve. Mommy, my sister and I are going to leave you some cookies and milk. Hope you can find our home in Pugwash, Nova Scotia. Have a jolly trip on Christmas Eve.

Love, Ryan

OK, ok, alright, 15 month old kid. Let me talk to your Mom, the mastermind here.

Listen lady, what the Hell do you think you are doing writing to Santa? The kid can’t read- his mind can’t even process how the poop got in his pants. So what the fuck are you doing writing to Santa? Let me come over to “Pugwash” and give you some “Pudwash” from my “North Pole” and then you’ll give that kid a Christmas memory he’ll never forget. And no cookies and milk. I want booze and blow.

Shit yeah Mr. Know-It-All talks a good game! Too bad I can’t even take a leak without pissing my left leg.

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Dear Santa:
I know I might not have been good this year, but could you pleas! I would be so happy! If I could have a Pocket Pickachu so happy I would not need anything else. Have a Happy Yuletide

From, Wolf

Yeah, I got a pocket Pickachu too. You’re growing up right.

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Dear Santa:
I liked the things you gave me last year I hope you can make my wishes come true again all I want is some money so I can Buy what I want. I love you Heaps

kellie hogan

Look me up when you turn fifteen kid. Man, will you make some good whore.

I was a fifteen year old whore too. I called myself Monique and, umm, on to the next letter. Fast.

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Dear Santa:
I want a New Born Baby. Are the raindeer redy for the trip? Weel Goodbye

REBECCA ASHLEY RUSH

There’s a few easy steps for that.

1-     Tell me where your Mom lives.

2-     When is she alone?

3-     Leave a big bottle of Viagra for me and a bottle of Quaaludes for her.

4-     Wait nine months.

5-     Bail me out of jail for non-payment of child support.

And screw the reindeer.

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That’s it. I can’t take these greedy brats any more. Where are the hot MILF’s letters to Santa? I want to write back to them. They have the coolest wishes and the best pills. And desperate MILFs will do anything, even if the board of health has condemned your cock and you have needle marks all over your balls and your apartment is really just a filthy alley behind a pizzeria.

As you can see, Christmas brings out the best in Mr. Know-It-All.

Tags: advice, bad advice, bmj2k, Christmas, letters, Mr. Blog, Mr. Blog's, Mr. BTR, Mr. Know-It-All, Santa, stupid letters