"Oh, really? Really? Oh, oh, that's just,

"Oh, really? Really? Oh, oh, that's just, that's just great. Oh, yeah, fantastic. You're a real charmer. You should take that act on the road."

"Come on, don't be mad. That was my best tune." I pleaded. The cobra didn't move from the basket. "Sure, right, just like Cleveland. You're a REAL professional." it hissed.

The onlookers crowded in, a talking snake? This was good & the swami's lips didn't even move, but the snake was dead wasn't it? A waif kicked the basket. The cobra clamped onto my

right toe! I howled like a person with a cobra clamped on to her toe. OMG! I was gonna die if I couldn't find someone to suck the poison out, but who would be willing to put my gr

Ille on their front teeth. The cadillas green colour was very retro and provided solace in these feral times. Christmas 2016 was not your usual Holiday. No way! The red skies were

more a mauve than a red. For one, that was the year that Mrs Santa went topless at the Elven Festival with a couple of strapping Grey Elves that were visiting from Middle Earth.

Needless to say, Mrs. Santa won the Golden Bozo that year, since Grey Elves have very little in the way of secondary female sexual characteristics. Triumphantly she marched in to

a war with Grey Elves. She capitalized over her 1000 year maidenhood prior to marrying Santa. Despite looking like a petite college freshman, she alone wrecked havoc as the great

red-suited one let her pussy-whip him. “Santa!” she’d bark, “Stop playing with the elves!” Or “Santa! Your weight is crushing me to death! Let me be on top!” It got so bad that

Santa sought out the advice of self-help guru and former 2020 Democratic presidential candidate, Marianne Williamson.