Hello everyone, and welcome to what I’ve come to pray is my last interview. Hey! Pulitzer guy… ya fanug! I might be praying, but that’s all this girl’s doing on her knees for your award! … ahem. Anyway, I’m here with the one and only Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Rudolph how are you doing today?
R: I have a head cold. I know it’s hard to tell because my nose is always red. In fact, I am pretty sure that is how those stories got started in the tabloids. But I do not have a drinking problem and I gave up snorting the ‘snow’. Sure, I like to put a little rum in my egg nog. We all do that. It is cold where we live.
You want to talk about a drinking problem ask me about Blitzen. How do you think he got that name? I remember once when they were playing some reindeer game… this is back before they let me play with them… Blitzen broke both of Prancer’s front legs. Prancer, that’s the gay one… not that there is anything wrong with that… couldn’t prance for three months. You have any idea what it’s like to be a gay reindeer that can’t prance?
H.E.: Can you give us any insight into what working for Santa is like?
R: First of all, it really pisses me off that people think we work just one night a year. Santa has a magic bag that is sort of like a Tardis… bigger on the inside than on the outside. But he doesn’t have a magic toy factory. It is more like a sprawling 600 acre complex of tool shops, fabrication plants, painting facilities and so on. Not to mention the vast warehouses for stuff coming in and going out. We get shipments of finished products and raw materials from all over the world.
All that stuff has to get moved from place to place. The elves load it on big work sleds and guess who gets to drag it where it needs to go. I was pulling work sleds long before I got to pull the big guy’s sled. See, that is our magic. We can make stuff float, or hover or whatever. And the reindeer don’t have a union. It isn’t all fun and reindeer games, I can tell you. At least we got the elves to stop using whips.
H.E.: Oh, my. That sounds barbaric. I suppose you have no family?
R: A family? Are you kidding me? When would I have time? And believe it or not, my nose is a genetic mutation that comes in handy when it is foggy, but it isn’t exactly a magnet for the babes if you know what I’m saying. Would you date somebody with a glowing body part?
H.E.: The world is dying to know: which of the Reindeer are male and which are female?
R: Donner and Blitzen are male. Prancer is a dude, but he is a little light in the hooves if you know what I mean… not that there is anything wrong with that… And Dasher, Comet and Cupid are all guys. Dasher is sort of full of himself, and Comet is a real asshole, but whatever.
Dancer and Vixen are the only ladies in the Christmas lineup. But I use the term ‘ladies’ in only the loosest sense… ha, that’s funny now that I think about it. Vixen earned her name the hard way… oh man, I kill myself… yeah, that girl puts out like a vending machine. She will present her haunches to any male mammal with a pulse.
H.E.: On more pertinent topics, do you have any knowledge of the charges currently building against Santa Claus?
R: Which charges are we talking about? I know for a fact that he has warrants out for his arrest in at least 15 countries. Most of that is stuff he does when he is on vacation. And he plays pretty fast and loose with the rules here at the pole. Because he makes all the rules.
All that other stuff, I could care less. I have my own problems. But if the cops ever put a sobriety checkpoint on the roof of a house on Christmas eve, there are going to be a lot of pissed off kids in the morning, that’s for damn sure.
H.E.: And how would you describe the role of a certain elf, Lipschitz?
R: Lipschitz is a dipshit. He calls himself a whistle blower. The closest he ever got to that is what I caught him doing to Prancer in the stables one night.
H.E.: Have you witnessed any kind of abuse or domestic violence?
R: I have my job… and my life… to think about. Ratting out the big guy would be like testifying against a Mob boss… when you work for him. I mean, that guy is stone-cold fucking crazy. Do you know why he wears red all the time? It isn’t a fashion statement. It’s so the blood doesn’t show. Rumor has it that there is a dungeon under one of the toy factories. Elves, animals and people dissapear when the big guy gets angry. I know for a fact that he melted Frosty the Snowman with a welding torch.
And Mrs. Claus? Let’s just say that she walks into a lot of door edges and falls down a lot. That is the story and I am sticking to it. I’ve said too much already.
H.E.: Final question: Two generations of Americans are dying to know – is the claymation holiday movie based on your life?
R: Which movie? You have any idea how many movies have me in them? There are hundreds of them. And none of us sees a dime in royalties.
Most of those were put out by our P.R. department. They are good. They are like the Disney corporation. And you know what? Santa pays attention to his image. But it’s all reindeer shit. If they ever made a movie of my life it would be directed by Quentin Tarantino and it would be rated X.
I met the Abominable Snowman once. Fucker tried to eat me. And that island of misfit toys? That place is a freak show. Remember that Toy Story movie that had the kid in it that tortured toys and cut them up and stuck the parts back together to make sick mutants? That kid has nothing on Santa. Picture being in that kid’s room when the toys come alive… and you are frying on some really bad acid.
But Santa really can make toys come alive. And sometimes he likes to blow off a little steam. The island of misfit toys is where he goes to play Dr. Frankenstein. I think you get the idea.
Today we continue our series chronicling the downfall of one of Earth’s most beloved holiday icons, Santa Claus. Our guest today is a self-proclaimed, “Herbal Entrepreneur” who was arrested that fateful night in January alongside Santa Claus. Today we sit down with Santa’s alleged dealer, LeMonjello Otis.
H.E.: Hello again. Today I’m digging further into the seedy, rumor-filled world of the ongoing drama surrounding Santa Claus. With me today is Mr. LeMonjello Otis, who is rumored to be a connection to this ongoing case. Mr. Otis, can you describe your relationship with Mr. Claus?
L.O.: Whoa, now wait jist a New York minute, there, fine lady. The Lemon-man don’t have no, relationships, with no brothers. I don’t know who you been talkin’ to, but (slaps fist into palm), but they might wanta think twice about dissin’ L. O. Me and S.C. go way back to college days; you might say that ol’ Red-n-White likes his recreational treats, but that’s all I know.
H.E.: So then the other rumors about you making massive campaign contributions to a certain recently-reelected government official would also be false?
L.O.: Total bullshit, sister. Though I would like to make some massive contributions to Michelle; seen the wiggle on that? Some fine junk in that trunk! Speaking a fine, most folks need to call me L. O., but a fine sister like you can call me Lemon.
H.E.: I am definitely not your sister. You have been seen frequenting the D.A.’s office on many occasions. What has he offered you in return for whatever knowledge you… uh, don’t have… on Mr. Claus?
L.O.: (Lights a cigarette, frowns, looks at the floor) I’m not supposed to say no shit about that. Let’s just say the Lemon-man likes to spend time with the ladies, not at no barbed-wire and concrete men’s club.
H.E.: The N.P.P.D. Chief claims you are a menace and a known drug dealer. Your comment?
L.O.: The Chief might do good to not let his own daughter record certain “fashion-shows” that the chief likes to put on on Saturday nights. Speakin’ of fashion shows, the Lemon-man likes to dress like a stud, but for as fine a form as you got, sister–let’s just say, you want me to wear a tutu, long as nobody’s filmin’ it, I’m there for ya, long as you let me cook breakfast for you in the morning, know what I’m sayin’?
H.E.: No, thank you. Can you prove those counter-accusations?
L.O.: In two years, when the chief’s daughter turns 18, they’s gonna be lots a provin’ goin’ on. The Lemon may not be Billy Graham, but the sisters gots to be legal.
H.E.: Have you had dealings with a certain Brown Shugga?
L.O.: (Blows smoke out his nose, coughs, and whistles) Whooo-eee, dealin’s?? Let’s us just say, the Lemon-man has a sniffle, he visits Shugga, an’ the sinuses are clear as a Nebraska sunrise, know what I’m sayin’. (Smiles stupidly for 45 seconds) You is fine, sister, whatsay you ‘n’ Shugga have a “nice-ass” contest over at my crib this weekend? The Lemon bring in a truckload a Viagra for you two.
H.E.: I see, and no, I do not want any of that. So would you characterize yourself as her pimp?
L.O.: The Lemon is a investor, nothin’ more, nothin’ less. Brown Shugga, she be my chief investment. Brother got to bring in some lawyer-money, know what I’m sayin’?
H.E.: Uhhh… yes, I suppose I must admit one must keep one’s pimp hand strong. Does the name Lipshitz the Elf mean anything to you?
L.O.: Le’s just say, none a the sisters wants ta get in the little man’s van. Somethin’ odd about the brotha. Hell, something odd about a van. (Shivers, pulls on his whisky)
Just in time for the holidays comes the world’s most epic shopping list! Inspired by the twisted- I mean, creative and clever folks at thisiswhyimbroke.com this list is a veritable smorgasbord of incredibly useless but uber awesome nonsense!
We begin with gifts for the SciFi fan in your life. First up is Star Wars and the FROZEN HAN SOLO CARBONITE desk. Or maybe that’s a gift for a Star Trek fan.
Speaking of Trekkies, what green alien lady wouldn’t love to wake up Christmas morning and find this nifty little engagement ring under the tree? (Don’t even think about it, Elias).
For those of you who enjoy a little blasphemy with your fandom there is available for purchase a signed portrait of the WOOKIE JESUS. That’s right people, I said signed. I’ll let you think on that a moment while I gaze in wonder to your right at the single most die-hard piece of SciFi merchandise ever created. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you; that is indeed a bed crafted to loosely resemble an imperial star-fighter ship.
Cashing in at over $15,000 this piece of nerdtastic craftsmanship is reserved for only the most dedicated of SciFi’s fandom. But don’t despair ladies and gentlemen; there is hope. My understanding is that you can also buy these beds used. I’ll let the irony of that statement sink in while I move onto gifts for the hyper obsessed fan.
For the gamer whose attention you just can’t grab comes the controller you can- namely in the form of the X-Box 360 bra. This particular attention getter comes in at $40.00 U.S. dollars (that’s 24.94 pounds British Sterling for any Brit who might like to know).
For the fan who takes his comics- er, I mean, graphic novels a little too seriously comes Rorschach’s MOVING INK BLOT FACE MASK courtesy of the Watchmen franchise. I don’t want to begin to think of how they get it to do that.
For the isolationist who has everything but still wants more comes the ROYAL TOILET THRONE. Perfect for that royal pain in the arse in your life.
Moving on to the isolationist with something to say is the STEAMPUNK MONITOR AND KEYBOARD. Perfect for writing your latest Steampunk short story or penning your rambling manifesto. Dayton, I’m talking to you.
Saddled with the burden of participating in Secret Santa in the workplace? Consider these fine gifts for white elephant prizes.
First off we have the BLOOD POOL PILLOW- a perfect solution to a case of the “Mondays.” Pair it with a sign that says, “It was my stapler” and you’ll have plenty of time to sleep off that Monday morning hangover. At least until the cops show up.
Next up is the MINI BALLISTA LAUNCHER or as New Englanders call it, a “trebuchet.” Look closely at the dude in the background playing target.
Tell me you wouldn’t want to nail that bloated loser right in the back of his brainpan with a wet wad of paper if you were forced to share an office with him. You just know he smells like particle board and cheese farts. I bet if you zoom in you’ll see him ordering an inflatable girlfriend.
For the sick puppy in your life consider the ZOMBIE GARDEN GNOMES. Guaranteed to keep the neighbor kids from cutting across your lawn.
If the gnomes don’t do the trick, maybe the BOB ROSS FINGER PUPPET will. The only thing scarier than a lawn full of zombie gnomes scaring children away is an creepy old neighbor wearing a Bob Ross finger puppet, beckoning them closer…
Finally we have gifts for new mothers who are looking for ways to make their hectic lives easier. For example, the BABY MOP.
Don’t let junior loaf around like a lazy American! Instill a Japanese work ethic in him with this multi-tasking work of genius made in Taiwan.
I’ve stared at this last picture for ages now trying to come up with something witty to say and all I’ve got is…GAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
North Pole – Shocking developments today at the North Pole rocked legal and judicial communities all around the world.
Santa Claus, under arrest for a variety of charges since early this year, has escaped custody. The warden for the North Pole District Detention Facility declined comment.
Unnamed sources cited mafia connections in this classic jailbreak, which ultimately caused an entire wing of the Detention Facility to be shut down for repair. “Total overkill,” one guard said, “One minute, I was rousting this sex offen… uh, checking on the prisoners, and the next I woke up in the middle of the deflated Bouncy Castle down on the floor. The inmates were devastated.” Other sources confirmed that riotous prisoners were transferred to separate them after a near riot over the Bouncy Castle.
The usually taciturn District Attorney maintained that, “We will of course seek justice for the people in this case. This is in no way over.” An unnamed source close to the DA hinted that the unofficial verdict here in the Pole region is ‘good riddance’ after the ongoing circus of civil disturbances resulting from Santa Claus’ arrest and incarceration.
At the height of the Santa Crisis, the NAACP provided Claus an attorney to replace Jose Baez, who quit the case citing personal reasons. Santa Claus’ pro bono lawyer declined comment, but later Al Sharpton issued a statement saying, “Justice is served for Brother Claus. Whether he’s free now or was set free later by an activist jury doing the right thing, justice has prevailed.” NAACP and Sharpton spokesbrothers were available for further comment.
The legal circuit media here in town were not put off breaking news for long, however. Only hours after Claus’ mysterious and violent escape, North Pole Police responded to a 9-1-1 call allegedly made by staffers working for Gloria Allred, the lawyer representing Mrs. Claus in her divorce proceedings. One jelly-donut-filling-smeared officer stated, “We have no suspects at this time, but the connection with the jail break cannot be overlooked.” A source within NPP said off the record that one key item logged into evidence were salad tongs that were found at the scene.
Other sources close to the presiding judicial figures in these cases hinted at a unilateral backroom deal that would settle both cases without further court drama. Just this morning beat reporters went to the blogs to announce that Mrs. Claus boarded a commercial flight out of the Pole, possibly confirming rumors of this alleged backroom deal. No official representatives of any North Pole offices were available for comment after this.
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