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| Hey mister. My mommy says you're almost as old as god. And that you know where Santa's workshop is. | |
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| Sure kid. When you stretch my scrotum flat, like a bat wing, the veins form a road map leading the way. | |
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| Ho ho ho. What do you want for Christmas, young man? | |
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| Well, I did want a train. Now I just want a lobotomy so I won't see Abe Vigoda's man-pouch in my dreams anymore. | |
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says: