Saigon, no problem.
Most commercial flights were grounded.
Someone didn't want us to travel.
I got it.
Big Petroleum and the Mitsubishi Gods wanted us to drive more.
The plan was to hitch a ride on Santa's slay.
Ho ho ho.
I was looking for a whore myself, I said to Santa, as I jumped in his slay.
Eight reindeers propelled us towards the equator.
Santa was great company.
I bitched to him about the presents I didn't get.
'Everyone does, but I'm making up for it now by taking you to Vietnam.'
He wasn't a bad bloke.
I took down his number and said I might visit him in the North Pole someday.
'Welcome, welcome,' he said. He wiped the dribble from his beard and continued. 'And you can fuck Santa's helpers.'
I was waiting for that.
'And yep, they are hot babes.'
Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa.
'One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies,' he said.
Now who doesn't like Bad Santa?
