What Johnny Wanted For Christmas...
Little Johnny had been waiting in a long line to sit on the department store Santa's lap when he finally gets his turn at it and climbs up.Santa say to little Johnny, touching the little boy on the nose with his finger, "I'll bet you'd like a puppy for Christmas."Johnny shakes his head, "No."Santa touches the little Johnny's nose with his finger again, "Well, then I'll
bet you'd like a kitten for Christmas."Johnny again shakes his head, "No..."The department store Santa then asked, "Well then, what would you like for Christmas, little boy?"Johnny replies with a big grin, "I want some pussy!!!"Santa, startled and almost speechless, stutters, "Well, I don't have any of that!?!?"Little Johnny, touching Saint Nick on nose, answers back smiling, "Yes you do, because I can smell it on your finger!"
Little Johnny's Christmas...
A Little Johnny went to sit on Santa's lap, and Santa asked him what he wanted for Christmas.Little Johnny answered, "A damn swingset in the backyard." "Excuse me?" said Santa. "I want a damn swingset in my backyard," repeated Little Johnny. Santa said, "You'll have to ask nicer if you want Santa to bring you something.
Let's try again. What else do you want?" Little Johnny answered, "A damn sandbox for the side yard." "You have to ask politely! One more time. What else do you want for Christmas?" Little Johnny thought for a minute, then said, "I want a damn trampoline in the front yard." Santa sighed and set Little Johnny off his lap. "I'm sorry son, I can't give
anything to someone who talks like you do. I'm not bringing you anything for Christmas." Santa then called Johnny's parents over and told them what had happened. They apologized profusely, saying they didn't understand why he talked like that,and they had been trying to break him of the habit with no luck. "I know how to stop it," Santa said. "Don't get him anything for Christmas. Just get some dog doo. Put a pile of dog doo in the backyard where he wants the swingset, another pile in the side yard where he wants the sandbox, and another pile in the front yard where he wants the trampoline. That will break him of it." The parents agreed.Christmas morning the kid heads downstairs to open their presents. Johnny runs out the back door, looks around, and comes back in. He runs out the side door, looks around, and comes back in. He runs out the front door,looks around, and comes back in, looking upset. "What's wrong, son?" asked his father. "What did Santa bring you?" Little Johnny answered, "He brought me a damn dog, but I can't find him!"
Little Johnny, Last years after Christmas letter...
You must be surprised that I'm writing to you today, the 26th of
December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things
that have occurred since the beginning of the month when, filled
with illusion, I wrote you my letter. I asked for a bicycle, an
electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football
uniform. I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only
was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the
whole school!I'm not going to lie to you, there was no one in my
entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents,
my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on
errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was
virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity.
What balls do you have leaving me a f**king yo-yo, a stupid
whistle and a pair of socks! What the f**k were you thinking,
you fat son of a bitch, that you've taken me for a sucker the
whole f**king year to come out with some shit like this under the
tree. As if you hadn't f**ked me enough,you gave that little
faggot across the street so many toys that he can't even walk into
his house.Please don't let me see you trying to fit your big fat
ass down my chimney next year. I'll f**k you up! I'll throw rocks
at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you'll have to
WALK back to the f**king North Pole, just like what I have to do
now since you didn't get me that f**king bike. F**K YOU SANTA!
Next year you'll find out how bad I can be, you FAT-SON-OF-A-BITCH.
I know WHO you are, and I KNOW where you live. You little shit!
You can't talk to SANTA like that and get away with it!
If you don't like the yo-yo, which is a classic toy, by the way,
then you can just cram it up your little *$$! As for the whistle
you didn't care for -- I gotcha whistle right here!!! Come blow
on this! And the socks...well, I figured you are big enough to
be whacking off, and those sox would have come in handy and been
handy to .. well, even you should get the picture!
And... that little "faggot" across the street, you'll be happy to
know that he's already got pubic hair and his whang is TWICE as
long as yours. Besides, his parents think YOU're the fag --always
moanin' and whinin'.
Don't worry about gathering up rocks for my visit to your house
next year, 'cause I ain't coming down your chimney ever again.
If you find any pennies this year, you had better stop and pick
them up, 'cause that's about all you're going to get for Christmas.
Your mom and dad are doing to be killed in a car crash, and you'll
be stuck in an orphanage before Thanksgiving.
Bad? You want BAD? I'll show you who's bad!