In 2nd grade some kid named Mike Mastellar told me Santa was really my parents. I played it off like I knew so i didn't look like an idiot.

When he left my mother.

You better believe in Santa Claws / Alice Cooper

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btw NSFW(boobs :)


S A N T A C L A W S

I was about 8 or 9, I believe. I remember hearing a bunch of metal clanking around in the living room and my mom telling my dad to keep it down...in between him saying things like "What the ****!?" and "SONOFABITCH!"

The next morning I had the sweet weight bench that I'd been wanting, and I realized that either santa was banging my mom, or it was my dad.

I don't remember ever believing in Santa. We had no chimney so I knew my Mom's story didn't add up.

Also what kind of 8 yr old wants a weight bench?

http://i325.photobucket.com/albums/k...gif/64hs8x.gif

WTF do you guys mean he isn't real?

I put this message on my answering machine once:

Santa here. I'm taking Christmas off this year and hanging out at Tim's house. So none of you assholes are getting any presents this year. And if you're a little kid, remember, I don't actually exist.

:evil:

Hell, I don't even remember.

**** Santa right in his fat ass.

Where the hell is my Crown Royal?

When I saw him ****ing some skank bartender in his old beat up piece of shit car.

I guess when he was tossin' some dude's salad in the slam....
http://i47.tinypic.com/28s8r3s.jpg

Thanks,asshole.

Just now ! Thx a lot !4321

Don't remember how old I was, but I had a brother four years older than me. I'm sure I was probably pretty young.