A Christmas Story for people having a bad day: When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure. Then Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where. Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered. Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?' And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
I prefer Nikki Sixx's Christmas diary entry haha Merry Christmas..... That's what people say at Christmas, right? Except normally they have someone to say it to. They have friends and family, and they haven't been crouched naked under a Christmas tree with a needle in their arm like an insane person in a mansion in Van Nuys. They're not out of their minds, they're not writing in a diary, and they're definitely not watching their holiday spirit coagulate in a spoon. I didn't speak to a single person today. I figured why should I ruin their f**king Christmas. I've started a new diary and this time I have a few new reasons. One, I have no friends left. Two, so I can read back and remember what I did the day before. And three, so if I die, at least I leave a nice little suicide note of my life. It's just me and you, diary. Welcome to my f**ked up life.
