"Hi, I'm Santa Claus. No, not some smelly saucehead ringing a bell for the Salvation Army: I'm the Real McKringle. You know, red suit, white beard, massive butt. Guess what? I got FIRED by the mega-corporation that bought my Workshop. So for the first time in 970 years, it seems I've got some time on my hands now. Time to 'spend with my family.' Time to try out some new careers. Time to blog."
Day 9: Dressed to Kill...Myself
Went to Best Buy for a job interview. Thought I had it, too, until they told me I had to wear one of those god-awful blue polo shirts. I told them I'm a winter -- I look good in reds, whites, blacks, that kind of thing. I told them I had my own suit, too, but the asshats wouldn't budge. You be the judge. I think I look like Papa Smurf.
Day 13: Shoot. Me. Now.
Day 15: Crash Test Dummy
Mrs. Claus said I should get a job driving a cab. Can I drive? Yes. A sleigh. Pulled by flying reindeer. In the middle of the night. That doesn't mean I can drive a Crown Vic in the middle of rush hour! But I gave it a shot. (Note to self: check life insurance policy--she's probably upped my coverage again.)
NOW ON SALE!
Twas the Night Before Christmas: 21st Century Edition (Andrews McMeel)
By Bruce Kluger and David Slavin
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Sacked Santa (Santa's Unemployment Blog, on Tumblr)