How do you go from happy Christmas memories to paranormal stories? Just like this, bitches! Krampus should have been mentioned here. I feel like that was a missed opportunity. You know, I'm really trying to concentrate on writing this, but our beloved mascot Piggy the Pitbull is ripping major ass, right next to me. It's not good, not even a little bit. It smells like chili macaroni, mixed with the taint musk of Satan. Talk about haunted buttholes! How's that for a call-back, all the way from episode one? It's like I actually know what I'm doing, or something. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals!! If you leave cookies out for Santa, and one of them has a bite out of it in the morning, do you know what that means? It means your cookies fucking suck! The plate at my house, nothing but crumbs in the morning. I was filled with wonderment, and my Dad was filled with enough sugar to contribute to his diabetes. True story!
