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Story No. 33681
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I want to write a lovely little Christmas story, but I know full-well what is coming from you lot. Oh, well. Here goes... Twas the night before Christmas
the first time I got laid, not a creature was stirring except for
Frank Stallone. Yes, Frank Stallone. Frank Stallone's children were huddled, snug in their beds, while dreams of
syphillis whores danced in our heads and prayed for
the return of Prince and his symbol. I wanted to Party Like it was
sometime around 1995 or maybe it 1985? Who cares, we are going to get stoopid drunk, fall down and maybe pee in our pants.
