Amanita you in my Arms Muscaria to Bed

There once was a story about a rapey Santa Claus. Yippee motherfucker. Woo hoo.
Culturally ordained linguistic ritualistic celebratory sequence activate. The Santa
Claus would allow children on his lap for a Ho Ho Ho. In his mind, he would liken the
top of his cap to the fungal sacrament Amanita Muscaria for its red and white
coloring, for after all the Christmas tradition finds its roots in the cultural synthesis
between Christianity and Siberian shamanism. The head is the macrocosmic
mushroom head, the cockhead is the microcosmic mushroom head and the cock
itself is a microcosm of the entire body. Lets have a chakral rainbow party. He
theorized that the penis is a flesh painting of the mushroom rooted in ocular
mocking of the physical form of the mushroom rooted in protohominidal mushroom
worship mating rituals. Thats quite a stretch, said the blank. He would get a
cerebral hardon while stroking his intellectual ego in silence. This in turn would
microcosmically engorge little mushie and subtley tease kid ass. As a little girl sat
on his lap, he beckoned her to sit on his left leg so as to invert the flow of energy in
the testicular sensory apparatus from masculine to feminine, compartmentalizing
form based awareness in the left teste. He felt the purity leaving the childs soul.
Mushrooms grow in dark, damp environments. He asked her what she wanted for
Christmas and she said a pet reindeer. Santa thought to himself, mothafucka the
pioneers of the form I am embodying domesticated reindeer long before you ever
conceived the idea, thus propogating a tug of the mycelia in his britches. He said,
on an external level Ho ho ho we only have such a limited supply, Im not sure we
can make it happen this year, but if you ask for something more reasonable in your
letter to me then maybe we can make something work sweet heart. Unbeknownst
to the masses surrounding, he accidentally slapped her ass and sent her on her way.
Santas got a brand new ballbag. He didnt flinch a spore. Imagine blowing a jester
out of bubble soap and asking it to crack jokes while inevitably seeing your
reflection. Pop.
As the little girl walked away he looked at her and fell deeply into his imagination.
I want your dick she said, like Santa had trained the good blank to say.
do you remember what I told you about psychophysiologically being aware of the
ultralinguistic vortex in the throat while you gag on my dick? Santa cried
She remained silent
Dont you want to train your throat and become as hollowly eloquent as me? Feel
the expansionary and contractionary nodes of muscle memory that retain the
energetic imprint of intonation within language as you choke on my penis
She remained silent.
Drink my piss stream of consciousness, I am potent with muscinol
She remained silent.
Just pretend that you are Alice and this is the caterpillar. After all, this is a
metaphor for eve eating the fruit in the Garden of Eden and the caterpillar is a
metaphor for the serpent. Lewis Carroll was the rare, wise Christian and my
mushroom forms a symbiotic relationship with the tree
She remained silent.
A tear fell from her eye.
Satanta was startled by a nudge on the shoulder.
Armando, its 11 fucking 30 at night and youve been in a catatonic state for 6
hours! Youre fired!
He walked out.
He remained silent.