HO HO HOcomic sans is very Christmassy
Hello Internet! It is I, Kristopher Kringle! The Sultan of Snow! The President of Presents! HERR SANTA KLAUZE!
Now why, you may ask yourself, is an immortal man like myself taking time out of his extraordinarily busy holiday season to write on the Internet? And indeed, I've not much time, for I shall soon return to my ancient duty of propagating Western globalization and secularization by distributing trinkets in one legendary, orgiastic evening! However, I needed to make an announcement, and your very own Richard "Lowtax" Kyanka was kind enough to let me use his internationally infamous SomethingAwful.com Second Life portal to say:
This year, I will be bringing toys to Second Life!
Yep, even an aged gentlemen like myself recognizes the potential in virtual worlds. Once my elves told me of what wonders I could wreak, I knew I had to join in the fun! Plus my publicist says I can really corner the decorative rapecock market, which is, of course, rather unpopular in more mainstream society.
I understand that there are good and bad sides to Second Life. Thankfully, after I registered, I found myself talking to a few charming young souls from a group called w-hat, which I understand to be only incidentally related to this website. Nevertheless, they seemed to understand the purpose of Second Life quite well, and also wish to bring joy and absurdity to an occasionally cold and heartless world. Just like me in the Yuletide season! HO HO HO!
My stars, would you look at the time! I must be off--there are whole continents of children waiting to receive commercialization down their respective chimnies! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this adaptation to a timeless Christmas poem, and a special seasons greetings from some members of w-hat!
HO HO HO! MERRRRY CHRISTMAS!
Twas the night before Christmas, and Second Life stood still
There was nary a soul in this virtual ville
The sex-clubs and hangouts stood empty and silenced
Barren of their everyday sexual violence
All the furries and perverts lay snug in their beds
While anthropomorphized wolves pole-danced in their heads
The virtual land barons? Dreamcatchers recorded
Visions of more fake money they'd not yet extorted
Their binary empire, tonight, was on hold
But tomorrow they'd get back to mining their gold
And deep in the darkness of Christmastime dreams
Members of w-hat envisioned some schemes
Of ways to bring fun and joy to the nerds
Who raged about "metaverses" with angrier words
But tonight is a night of magic and glee
And the morrow allows for no misery
To those whom this poem will infuriate
Who think that Second Life is uniquely great
Remember: in games, there's no such thing as a crime
Stop taking it seriously and have a merry old time!
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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