Don’t Tell Me…. It’s Christmas

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Christmas is the holiday that best exemplifies my worst personal trait, which happens to be my penchant for procrastination. I will literally stop at a gas station and buy someone a scratch ticket right before a Christmas party. A scratch ticket is the best way to tell someone “I forgot about Christmas, my bad”. How could someone disapprove? Sure, your gift could end up being absolutely nothing but it could also be a million dollars. Think about that million dollars for a second. With a million dollars, you could by a lot of beer, a lot of drugs, and possibly Lindsay Lohan as your own personal prostitute because, lets be honest, she has nothing else going on right now. And if you play your cards right, she might even do a line of cocaine off your dick. Hell, before you know it, you will be playing beach volleyball with Jessica Alba, Lenny Dykstra, and Danny Glover’s father, while wearing nothing but a Speedo made out of a Scandinavian women’s face (first off, the Scandinavian woman would have willing sold you her face. Secondly, watch out for that Lenny Dykstra. I hear he’s broke these days).  My procrastination could lead to some true happiness in someone’s life. Who’d of thought?  Merry Christmas and Fuck You!

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