Last night, unbeknownst to St. Nick, I stole myself away in the closet. My children had laid out cookies and milk in anticipation of his coming. As I watched the lights of the trees blink on and off, I nodded off for the breifest of moments. When I woke, there was Santa. As I gazed through the imperceptibe crack of the door, I saw Santa in the twilight standing by the tree that was freshly littered with perfectly wrapped presents (one of which was X-Box number 49,738,526). He was quietly munching on a cookie when he raised his glass as if to toast the spirit of the holiday. It was then that Santa spoke. "F*^& Microsoft" were the words that escaped his lips. Couldn't agree more, Santa.
Yes, Santa cusses.
No, I don't care (Although I wish he would say 'F Bama' next time)