To the legions of my reader fans who await not a minute before I clamp down the keyword with whatever oozez down my brain, I say no x-mas to you. Alas! I am desillusioned with the lot of humanity so seek not the jule tides with jingles in every pimple million of innocent smirks cause. Humbug! I am a bitter soul the likes of one Bartleby. I stand idle waiting for death to appear down the horizon any day. No friend however curios of life cometh to visit my prison-like solitude nor do they worry about the lot of the world.

X-mas is just a reminder nowadays of how cruel and vicious humanity can be towards one another. People are dying this very instant in some part of the world while someone is buying a present thinking of that dearly beloved one. Bought with the very money the bullet, that killed that unknown in a foreign land, earned in an unethical slushfund on Wall Street. Millions rejoice in América with their cherished ones, eat, drink and piss in tranquility while half the world is protuding in misery.

I have heard the angry ones who will stand not a sight the likes of me. Go to Africa! if thoust must cryth the X-mas dappers.


Is it too much to ask for a little reflection some other time of the year other than the 24th of Dic?

Kill x-mas, it has become a lawyer for good tidings.


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