December 7th

Dear Santa

By

Beppo Blitzkrieg

Dear Santa,

Beppo here... I would just like to take this opportunity to tell you to go fuck yourself.

I know, I know… fucking tell me about it. I will end up on the naughty list for this shit, but bear with me as I lay it out for you. Either way, I don’t think I have much to lose. See, “naughty” ain’t got shit on my nose.

Daring the risk to sound like a fucking Thanksgiving Turkey here (giving thanks, mind you, not gobbling your gravy) I would like to say THANK YOU!

Thank you for all the shit I never got as a kid when I wrote you in cramped backward letters, struggling not to fucking pass out from dyslexia. Especially the telescope I never got. The big shiny one in the window at Sears. Thanks a fucking bunch. Worst case scenario: I could have become a fucking astronaut and died in space or some shit. Thank you for that.

And thanks for the dog you didn’t bring me when I was seven. I remember drawing you a picture of a fucking dog, sitting in a fucking box with ribbons around his neck, panting like a motherfucker. I guess that was too fucking subtle for you, huh? My drunken fucking mom always said that she couldn’t get me a dog because she had to work for a fucking living instead. This “living” consisted of me stuffing my thrift store clothes with toilet paper to keep warm in the winter night as I huddled in my cardboard tent on our front lawn while mom was “entertaining company” indoors. A dog would have been nice to keep me fucking company, to keep me warm, but thank you for not getting that for me. I would probably just have eaten the motherfucker raw and then PETA would have thrown me in foster care with fucking Joni Mitchell or some other dyke hag. She’s PETA isn’t she? She should be, she fits the bill.

And, oh… Thank you for the remote controlled Batmobile everybody else got but me. I am sure they had as much fun playing with the fucking things as I had beating the snot out of the little fuckers for rubbing it in my face, come January. 

Santa, thank you, from the bottom of my ulcer, ever so fucking much, for the fucking rash I got on my dick after I lost my virginity at 15 in a drunken stupor to the bag lady in the alley outside school. I don’t remember specifically asking for my dick to drip like a busted fucking pipe on Christmas Morning, but I just know you had your finger in the game somehow. It sure as fuck was a surprise, I’ll give you that.

But most of all, THANK YOU, you sick demented sadistic motherfucker, for keeping the hope alive in my cold and bitter heart, for all those years, that there really is some Gift Fairy For The Blessed out there, to almost – but not quite - give me all the shit my mom couldn’t give a fuck about getting me. Never mind that you never came, or even fucking pissed in my sock in passing… just knowing you were almost there was enough to keep me awake and hoping all through Christmas Eve until morning.

Was it the Christmas Twig, decorated with dirty syringes, used condoms and moldy zip lock bags that deterred you? Did the roaches bark at you as you tried to squeeze yourself in through a crack in the wall? Did my mom walk in on you, drunk beyond salvation and pissed off because you were making a ruckus in the middle of the night? Did she beat you with that big fucking frying pan of hers? Is that why you never came back? Huh? Is it?

You really are something, aren’t you? You fake ass motherfucking hypocrite bastard.

Now I am the one busting my ass to get my nephews some fucking toys and crap for Christmas, paying out of my fucking ass for shit they will forget to even open in the avalanche of other gifts, and still you get all the motherfucking glory. Never mind that Uncle Beppo is gonna eat fucking Alpo for two months straight so he can pay for that fucking dancing Robosapien motherfucker.

No, you go ahead, Santa. You take all the fucking credit.

Never mind the lives you wreck and hopes you squash, as you leave us miserable broke ass bastards in your wake.

You just go on your merry fucking way, ho-ho-ho-ing like some motherfucking Harlem Pimp until the cows come home.

It’s not like I give a shit.

Fuck you, Santa, fuck you very much,

Beppo "Motherfucking" Blitzkrieg

PS. Can I have a new editor please? This one is broken