Meagan Good Short Haircut On The Game

A Gift for Santa

... "Well, no, this year I will not fall into the same game forever, because I'm tired, rather, tired, tired, annoyed and upset that my turn to do the same thing every year , bear such weights that I never have known, endure this fate was not mine but that of another, which was imposed on me without ever asking me if I was satisfied with the job from hell, with that destination cyclic repeating over and over again the same, always the same, beginning with an exhaustive study of the behavior of children, to see which ones can receive gifts and which not, according to their moral and adherence to the codes set in each region , for every religion, every sect, urbanization and house, to complicate things are the same all over the world, but that change from one side to another depending on the angle of incidence of sunlight on the bark land or the history accumulated after years of endless war, or stimuli predestined by genes and the stars on each name, heaven knows, and then, Rather than be a single code of ethics around the world, there are three mil five hundred forty-six million seven hundred eighty-eight microcode individual ethics, family, local, regional, national, and continental complicating coexistence, that spoil relations between countries, wars and promote further unbalance an already unbalanced humanity, and then I put myself at the crossroads of having to learn all the different codes of behavior, to judge like a kind of god obese children all the earth, to draw hasty conclusions about whether you were fairly good as your parents and your residence and your city and your country and your race and history that has been dragging behind you, or if you were bad very bad very bad, and then start to make rules of three to estimate that as you behaved a bit wrong and asked for a bicycle then applying penalty factors as the scale and arithmetic tables and you are lucky if you just touch a skateboard, or if you behaved very well and asked for a Nintendo the good Santa, then I'll give you viedeojuego with some original cartridges or copied which can kill some brain cells and learn violent behavior from remote locations to help you not be as good in the years to come, and after much suffering and so many gifts I have that feeling forever that I am doing wrong and I was very unfair to some children, because it's really hard to tell when someone is good and when not to, especially if we can not wash their hands then as Pilate, and then one plus one equals two, for two four children and billions of sending me stupid letters from hundreds of different languages \u200b\u200bthat do not understand why I have no time to sit down and study each local language or to imagine what they meant in the midst of this hodgepodge of typos and semantic and semiotic and seminal , where they ask and ask and ask for the impossible to carry in one bag, in a single sled, objects that most people do not deserve it or that I have no idea what it is that ask, if a round thing with peaks is dark but look through it, or something that is very soft but hard to turn, or a trinket very sweet but that makes you mourn for their acidity, they come every absurd to these children, and all the cards that I can understand, those who write in languages \u200b\u200bfamiliar and not so many mistakes, because most of the letters I get do not understand even the dear dear dear Santa Santa Santa, Santa an horn, what you want is a genius, a scholar who can speak all languages \u200b\u200bof the world, who knows all the codes of ethics and morality of each isolated region of the earth, a scholar who can interpret what their demented heads asking within nonsense forcing them to say so much sugar and television maldigerida, so many things that neither you yourselves know what they are, and also a genius, millionaire also want it to be a man of inexhaustible wealth, which has infinite resources with which to pay for nothing all those irrational desires that his letters asking me insane and unintelligible, as if I were a financial wizard and not the poor man that I am fat, high cholesterol, with triglycerides through the roof, with an incurable wound in his right leg because of diabetes, in spit of suffering a massive heart attack as a miserable living in the north pole because I had no money to buy land in any place civilized and less harsh than this sh ** snow where everything is white and cold, where even the stones that shit is ice and snow, and that to fulfill that destiny was not mine but I had other hiring dwarves who genuinely scared me, where I do not trust at all, all simply because it was the cheapest labor in the region, and do not know how to teach has cost me every detail on the modeling of plastic injected on the physicochemical properties of polypropylene, to manage metalworking furnaces, not to mention blood tears I've cried for him to understand a bit of advanced electronics dwarf those negligible, which at first threw it all away no matter the six months it took to get each package of goods imported into this pole mierdade can not go further because it would leave the maps, and before all this calamity touches me laugh ho ho jo, because everyone expects this fat drunk-faced good-natured laugh, ho ho ho, because of that contract was never signed and that spoiled me for life as long as the fat you can not cut itchy beard while you sweat and have to laugh all the time, ho ho ho, but not like the children of hell who stole his destination, ho ho ho, but really hates with all his might, ho ho ho, but being dying of rheumatism in the distance from pole, in this hell where night lasts for six months you can not sleep because the cold does not leave us, ho ho ho, accompanied by these dwarfs are sadistic side of sex maniacs, of libidinous satyrs and drug addicts, ho ho ho, who would want this fate willingly, fuck, who would want this living death, and then I have to keep up with technology upgrades, so that the toy dolls that make my satyrs and the wrong things they do every time I get distracted, can grow, and mourn, and shit, and all girls who want to make their dolls, toy cars and futuristic carajitos for each year have to run faster than the previous year, and climbing walls, and put lights and rockets everywhere, as if we knew that in two days, in just two days, that toy that cost us both design and construction work, will end up thrown in a sewer or torn by the dog, no joke, not to mention boats and ships of crap I have to import from China and other parts to assemble the toys, every time spoils of injection machines, every time you run out of plastic, dyes, carcinogens, lithium batteries, copper wires, sparking eyes and moved alone to face of the dolls, the memories of the game, the little engine that will soon pass over two days in damage, and each year up debts I do not know how to pay, because in this little job I dated I have to give winning toys never receiving anything in return for my altruism old fool, and then I have to juggle to convince suppliers to wait for another year, ho ho ho, persuade them with my big good-natured face to trust me, soon I will pay, all children of the earth are making donations to the good Santa and give continuity to his beloved Christmas, but no, everything is a lie, though say it with my best smile of sincerity, everything is false, because I'm only up to its neck in this ment, because nobody helps me even brought me a packet of flour to make arepas, or a box of chocolate to take on the toughest winters and I do not know what lies keep getting to the sinister dwarves every day they get more violent reinvokes requesting their salaries, and that if the compulsory social insurance, if the old age pension, if the housing loan, if the layoff, what horns, where I am going to take much money to pay if all I have is this ranch ice factory became hits peak force, and if I do not have anything or even to buy another dress more dignified and serious than the red dress that has more holes and patches pants beggar if I have not been able to buy a car or a plane, even with all that I want to drive a plane, and instead the only transportation I have is this sleigh apart from the pure obsolescence is, who has seen, going sledding yet, how if we were in the nineteenth century, carried by a reindeer jerks who do not see it have cataracts, which have no horns as they fell from old and many hours of flight, many templon give them to go faster, beast arre, arre beast!, because I always want to go Faster, faster, to deliver all the gifts they asked me miserable not deserve these children criminals to empty the bag smelly foot with sabayon to aged cheese, and go for one more year at that distance from where I built the ** Wed home and where day after day, I freeze the balls every time I sit down to shit on the toilet, because if I have to pay the suppliers and the dwarf, much less going to have to pay a decent heating or hot agüita the shower, sinks, dishwasher safe, and thus how I would not leave my wife if I spent all day talking about toys and children's good and bad, if I could not even give a gift on the anniversary because they were all committed to these unfortunate children who stole my soul, because he could not offer a room with heating, but this icy room with a bed of ice and ice the head, so why would not he leave, the final took off, not stand, is gone forever one morning when I was sitting at the table with my face and my big belly jojojo outside the trousers that I could never close the button, and stayed for more than two hours waiting for me to serve my fried eggs with ham, my plate of tripe, my soup of black beans, pies my meatloaf, accompanied of course with my pill for stress, and when I went to look into the kitchen to ask him what happened with my food, black, she was gone, was gone forever leaving a Notice of "hate this crap today, Claus, keep your dwarves and your childish world if it makes you happy, because what am I going to find a real man with a real job, I can be treated as I deserve, "and so did my black, without a kiss goodbye, without a last word, without saying if I was going to miss, and I left that note in his hand, standing in the middle of the kitchen without knowing what had happened and what I face now, damn, I lost my wife, and has been too hard to have to learn, as well as ethical codes, different world languages \u200b\u200band literature horrible children who are beginning to write, cook chicken, meat, fish, pork and all the crap that I like to eat donuts and cakes accompanied by chocolate, because although I tried to convince some of the dwarves to change the factory through the kitchen none would accept the exchange, saying that those were not things of men, and they were a male, fuck, small but gifted, and were not going to be cooking for any old boss was, so I had to sit on a computer, and start downloading the best recipes for cooking weather below 0 ° C, and then I had to learn to chew raw seal liver, fish that tastes stale, and eat testicles seal and seal eyes, and intestines of seals, and I can not stand the smell of rotten seal every time I go to the bathroom, all because of the toys, all because of the children, all because of the dwarves and suppliers, because all of them because my wife left me, I do not know how he always got food but tasty, and I served it on the table every time I told Villlllmaaaa, where's my brontosaurus ribs, and of all things, above all this and much seal liver and white beard and many reindeer jojojo both old and so much debt and loneliness I do not even have the consolation of having given gifts to all children in the world, for the poorest children can not write, because they live in places that do not have mail systems so I never get their cards, because even I am sure of where the hell is Zambia and Zimbabwe, I've never been there, because apparently my address book only goes up to the "Y", he vanished the "Z", and just stick with the gut itself, the end of the night December 24, I'm leaving some children out, to me is forgetting something, but as soon as it reaches the fault disappears, total, no one ever criticizes me, no one seems to care about the fate and the fate of the poorest children, and then cry beast arre, arre Rodolfo!, and twist the direction of my reindeer arthritis, back toward the pole, again towards the dwarves, to debt, to the toilet I freezes the balls, and the routine starts over the last two hundred years, that makes me wish you were dead, that makes me pray to give me pneumonia Free me from this yoke, which makes me ask with all my heart explode a burst boiler or any of the pipes that deliver the most harmful chemicals we use in the factory, to die, damn it, to get rid of the shadow of my wife chasing me around the corners of memory, not to see those damn midgets more than I steal the few decorations that I stay at home in exchange for salary payment never to shake off the Chinese suppliers that were not understood a damn what they say but as I feel that are already horny and tired of waiting for a payment that never arrives, so this year is over, this year there is no red suit and jolly old venerable face and jo jo jo, this year it goes all to hell I kick in the butt every one of the dwarves, I'll throw gasoline and setting the candle factory, I'll ax fall on the ice walls of my horrible house, and I'm going to fuck himself, where nobody knows where it might die in peace without fucking asking me are not deserve toys and gifts, which do not have to think of new creations to surprise some children have increasingly less of innocence over evil, to be away from all of you, your eyes, in your opinion easily and absurd, where you can sit quietly to watch a sunset, and feel that I'm going to another world along with the Sun

Starting this year, there will be no Santa, no more Christmas. What else is left with the office if you wish, because what I am, I'm going to Panama, to bathe in the Caribbean Sea, and walk to the depths, hoping to drown and have the opportunity to start again with another life, a life that is mine and not another, better life. "