Some people think that my job is easy. Sit around on my rotting carcass for 364 days and work one- what a deal!
Let me tell you something. If your one day of work entailed travelling around the globe visiting millions of houses and delivering billions of gifts, moving at speeds that defy reality, ingesting enough milk and cookies and whiskey and bangers and mash and curry and more- well let's just say that you would not only cease to be among the living, but also need a lot of rest to recover from such a day.
So, boys and girls, I'm back. Time to start making my list of naughty and nice and spying on all of the people on this ball of dirt to see what's what. Maybe I can find some embalming fluid and do some repair work on this dusty ol' bag of flesh?
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