Secret Santa
CEO, North Pole Inc.
So I had a new custom sleigh built this year with onboard navigation system, some nice LCD televisions and surround sound with the new PS3 for those long trips. anyways, last night was the final testing night, before Christmas eve. Flying over the kentucky area, I happen to see shooter flying around so I pull up next to him, one of my female passengers ( I roll like ZZ top- fine fox in the front, and 3 more in the back ) decides to flash him her Ta-Ta's, meanwhile I throw up the shocker! By now the passengers were getting alarmed and Shooter gives me the signal that he's on his way down and he's ready to party...So what the hell...
Shooter gets his plane docked and he clears out, jumps in the sleigh and we're out. I can see immediately that he is impressed with the new set up! Pimp my ride ain't got nothing on this sleigh. Shooter suggests that we go out on the town...who am I to argue. So we park the sleigh in his back yard, he quickly grabs a box of stogies and we're out.
We hardly get out the door, and ole' shooter is throwing cigars my way. La Flor Dominica, Opus, Anejo...wooo hooo, its going to be a good night. Then the crazy bastage pulls out the clear stuff. Santa is feeling good about now. What a night, we head down town, meet EVERYONE, smoke enough cigars to increase Santa's cancer probability by 25%, and some how we made it home.
At some point on the ride home, my ass passes out. This has just been too much for ole santa. I know this, because the sun is starting to come up, and I'm waking up in the front seat of his car. I get up and head inside to try and sleep off some of this hangover...but as I walk inside all I hear is shooter....uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh......mmmmmyyyy hhheeeeaaadddddddddd. I guess he feels even worse then I do.
Some how I manage to fall back asleep for an hour or so. As I wake, I realize someone is outside talking to the reindeer. I look outside-OH MY GOD, MY EYES!!! I see shooter standing out there in nothing but a towel, which he loses at one point....yelling at my poor reindeer, "YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUGGIN KIDDING ME"
NO DOUBT....WHAT A NIGHT
S CLAUS
Shooter gets his plane docked and he clears out, jumps in the sleigh and we're out. I can see immediately that he is impressed with the new set up! Pimp my ride ain't got nothing on this sleigh. Shooter suggests that we go out on the town...who am I to argue. So we park the sleigh in his back yard, he quickly grabs a box of stogies and we're out.
We hardly get out the door, and ole' shooter is throwing cigars my way. La Flor Dominica, Opus, Anejo...wooo hooo, its going to be a good night. Then the crazy bastage pulls out the clear stuff. Santa is feeling good about now. What a night, we head down town, meet EVERYONE, smoke enough cigars to increase Santa's cancer probability by 25%, and some how we made it home.
At some point on the ride home, my ass passes out. This has just been too much for ole santa. I know this, because the sun is starting to come up, and I'm waking up in the front seat of his car. I get up and head inside to try and sleep off some of this hangover...but as I walk inside all I hear is shooter....uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh......mmmmmyyyy hhheeeeaaadddddddddd. I guess he feels even worse then I do.
Some how I manage to fall back asleep for an hour or so. As I wake, I realize someone is outside talking to the reindeer. I look outside-OH MY GOD, MY EYES!!! I see shooter standing out there in nothing but a towel, which he loses at one point....yelling at my poor reindeer, "YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUGGIN KIDDING ME"
NO DOUBT....WHAT A NIGHT
S CLAUS
