w * i * z * z * a * r * t (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wizzart) wrote,@ 2005-12-24 23:06:00 |
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| Current mood: |  cheerful |
.:: ho ho - who you callin' a ho?! ::.
i was in prison, though. yeah, the F.B.I. found out about the christmas cards. thanks a lot,
maracela. they kicked down my door and dragged me out, kicking and screaming. man, it was pretty horrible. i made some pretty awesome new friends, though, and while being shanked kind of sucked, i'm totally digging the "mom" tattoo i received with a needle made out of a sharpened bic pen....so i lied.
i've actually been busy, you know, shopping, and wrapping, and sending out my christmas cards. yeah, i said it! sticking it to the man!
i'd like to take a moment to thank everyone that did opt to purchase a
wizzart christmas card. your feedback has been greatly appreciated. ♥ the money i made has been donated to the SPCA, though most of it wound up going towards shipping costs (and that was just the first batch). the money left over was added to the monthly donation my mum and i already make to the SPCA (the toronto humane society, to be exact), though there wasn't much. i'd like to remind everyone that even if you did not have the funds to purchase a card, you were, and still are, more than welcome to print off your own. it is truly beyond me why some people reacted so negatively when i was honestly trying to do something, you know, nice...for once.
this is why i'm not nice. this is why most of my
wizzart art is so bitter. because i hate the world. well, except you. and you.
but honestly, i'm so glad you all liked your cards ♥ i'm glad i wasn't someone's bitch for nothing!
speaking of bitches, it's jesus' birthday tomorrow - worst.segway.ever.
and we all know what that means.
wait - what?!
while i'm certain you're an appreciative bunch, there's a certain orphan who has a bone to pick with a certain fat man in a red suit.
i know you're probably wondering why i am writing you one day after christmas, but after opening my presents yesterday, i felt compelled to say something.
santa, i was a very good orphan all year. i listened to the nuns when they asked me to scrub the staircase with my toothbrush, and i didn't even allow myself to enjoy it when they spanked me with a paddle. i helped out with chores around the orphanage, and even took the initiative to drown the annoying cat that belonged to the cross-eyed girl down the hall. you know the one. no one will adopt her - seriously, nick, she has to be about fifteen now.
with that said, when i sat down to pen my christmas list, the least i was expecting was a spinning top. sure - world domination and the ability to grow facial hair were a bit much - but a spinning top? a rocking horse? mittens and a matching top hat?
how the fuck - after reading my list would you deem it appropriate to leave beneath the tree a shitty light up yo-yo - a mother-cunt plastic tea set and a fucking no-name dolly that looks like she has fucking polio. either you're blind or you can't read. every single year i say i am going to stop believing in your fat arse, and like a fool i always give you another chance - but not again! no sir! the lack of a spinning top is the final straw! you hear me, old man? you're dead.
i will fuck you up.
i mean, honestly, the gall! giving that little cock-eyed sally from across the hall everything she asks for. she had best sleep with one eye open - because bitch is going to be smothered by her new pillow.
you've crossed the wrong orphan, santa, you'll see - you and them fucking reindeer better think twice before landing on the roof of this here orphanage! especially that fucking rudolph.
have a merry christmas, you fat fuck.
p.s.
i hope you die.
p.s.
slowly.
p.s.
notice that this entire letter was written with charcoal. why? because i didn't receive a single fucking crayon. that's why. ho ho ho yourself - asshole.
sincerely yours,
thomas riddle.
happy holidays,
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wizzards!!!
