Would you ever trust a Santa Claus who wasn't at least a few pounds over weight? I sure wouldn't. I ran into a bell ringer Santa once on a street corner in downtown Los Angeles. At first I thought he was with the Salvation Army, but as I got closer, noticed he was just ringing his own bell for his own benefit. He was very nearly swallowed up by his filthy Santa suit which hung on him like rags on a skeleton. This pseudo Salvation Army Santa was also smoking a cigarette. "You have got to be the skinniest Santa I've ever seen," I said. He answered, "It must be the crack man." I rest my case.
It is really politically incorrect to carry any weight around these days what with everybody from the First Lady on down dictating what we should be eating. The rules seem to be if it tastes like crap, it's good for you. If it tastes good, it's going to kill you. Why bother eating if all you can eat are twigs, bark, garbanzo beans, rubbery raw fish , or vegan pretzels that taste like vomit?
Thankfully, we at the North Pole favor food with actual flavor. You see, we take the Good Lord at His word when He said, "Eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight in fatness." Of course, if you don't believe in God, I'm happy for you to have my share of egg plant, okra, and tofurkey!
Anyhow, that's how Santa sees it!
Anyhow, that's how Santa sees it!
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