I’m only posting this because I’ve gotten like 10 emails asking if I quit the blog to be a full time Jolly Fat Guy. The answer is no. It’s not me. This guy here is morbidly obese, I just strive for being mediocre obese. At best. So everybody just calm down. Enough Santa mail people. I don’t care if you’ve been naughty or nice. I ain’t coming to town! I’ll go to town on a bag of Doritos though…
Santa The Hutt here is located at the flagship store of Betabrand, a crowdfunding platform for designer clothes. Does he make you want to buy clothes? It looks like he can’t even fit in his own. Do you have any idea how long it is going to take a man of this girth to deliver gifts on Christmas Eve? Let’s just say he’s stopping the sleigh at every border for a puke and some gasping wheezing.
If I can make one suggestion to this overflowing Santa, it would be to shave that runway under his belly button. That’s just wrong.
Buy clothes? It makes me want to gouge my eyes out!
What is their point? To scare children into anorexia?
How does he even get down the chimney, let alone thru the door!
He needs a lesson from the reformed cookie monster, and not chow down on every plate left for him!
Kids, this Christmas leave Santa salad or a piece of fruit!
Or do what we did, leave him cold shrimp and a can of beer…wait, sans the beer, his belly can’t take anymore!
Hmm, maybe it was the beer, maybe my family made Santa an alcoholic…*hangs head in shame*