Reintroducing The ONLY Official Santa Claus Column!

Santa's Back!
Santa’s Back!

A few years ago on Professional Moron we managed to get Santa Claus to write official weekly columns for us. Unfortunately this deal turned sour after Santa accused us of tampering with his work. Some of the claims Santa levelled at us were: a) We made him out to be a psychotic maniac, b) We made him look like a psychotic drunk, and c) We ruined his mythology with a and b. Following a cooling off period, Professional Moron and Santa are back together again as he “Needs the money…” and only we are offering him the chance to rant for a meagre 1p a sentence. Welcome back Santa!

We should state Santa has been truncated this week as his writing has lost its former sheen. Gone are the witticisms on his yearly haul around the globe. In their place are what we dub “bittercisms”, a kind of bitter contemplation and lamentation on existence as a whole. Yes, Santa’s gone existential. Whilst he gets back into the swing of writing we’ve allowed him leeway, but this does mean he’s only been paid 13p for this week’s work. The poor old git.

Santa’s Column, December 11th 2014

“I began this week by punching one of my Elves violently in the face cos the cheeky SOB called me a “Fat sack of ship!” (I have changed the swear as it seems in bad form to write “shit” out for the world to see). The other Elves, plus the one I punched, have now boycotted their present making duties until I apologise. They want me to make amends by doing the Gangnam Style dance naked. I’ve told them to “stuff it one, you little freaks!” I’m not doing that!

This does mean only 49% of the presents are ready for Christmas, so if you’re expecting that pony, or a DJ kit, or a new laptop, you may well go disappointed. The Reindeer, particularly Rudolph, have not been helpful during this time. Rudolph is petulant and lazy! Yesterday I asked him to help me and Mrs. Santa Claus cook dinner. “Piss off!” he yelled from his Reindeer Shack. I went to see what he were doing and he were sat there on his sofa staring blankly into the middle-distance. He seemed depressed, so I shot a wodge of ketamine into him with me shotgun. He was last seen terrifying the Elves with his dancing impersonations of Miley Cyrus. I hope this solves the boycott.”

Dispense with some gibberish!

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