Santa - The real truthful gritty origin story - The Conclusion


When you think of Greenland today, and let's face it most of us are likely to do at least dozens of times today, because we're at this blog and Greenland is a hot topic of conversation, but even when you think of Greenland on days other than today, yesterday for example, or even two Thursdays from the next full moon that follows a week of barren wheat yields, or any other typical day, most of us will think of Greenland maybe eight to twelve times, thirteen if we have a flu, and when have such thoughts, Greenland conjures up a stream of beautiful feelings and mind pictures, of rolling hills, snow capped mountains, over the hill postal workers accidentally delivering their pet goldfish to realtor offices, lovely meals capped off with knife fights in alleys, snow haired rock stars plugging walruses into guitar amps and shredding a whisker solo, lone alley cats learning to use can openers and sneakily trying to keep the knowledge to themselves, people missing hitting pedestrians with their cars by mere whiskers and apologizing by shouting the near hit barrels of bacon grease rescued from hoarding underground wrestling leagues, and sipping Peña-Coladas by a hot spring spurting ten thousand year old sulfur out of cracks in glaciers which show off signs of disaster for the future of man kind, but even worse can leave smelly stains on our best glacier swimming trunks.

But Greenland wasn't always the land of wonder, beauty, laughter, intrigue, adventure, and inspiration that we all adore now, in fact as recently as the late 1800s it barely had 85% of these things, and as a result some of her citizens were not happy.

To be honest the country was awful, none of the alley cats knew how to use can openers, so they were always asking humans to do it for them, the hills hadn't discovered the wheel yet so we're motionless and decades from learning to roll, the Peña-Coladas at the local glacier hot spring were often mixed light on the Colada, most bacon fat wrestling leagues were above ground, and therefore hard to focus on without wondering if the sun would ever come out, and few rock stars could play a walrus whisker to me save their lives, and most were into electronic polar bear genital manipulation, which while sounded better than most modern music, sounded mostly like a large animal having its genitals manipulated. Yep the citizens hated life.

One such citizen was a man named Nick, or Santa to his school chums, most of whom were now dead, but for some reason chose to have their gravestones marked with 'don't forget to call Nick "Santa" ha ha, remember that picture of his mother's vagina, man it was gritty!'

It was hard to begrudge them, if you can't share a joke post death then why bother dying, that's why the worst people you ever meet seem to live forever. I mean when was the last time you met a really old person who was quick to crack a joke? I sure haven't for a while, and I've looked. I spend most Sunday's touring old folk homes and hospices, and I'll walk around slapping old folk awake with a fly swatter, or stepping on their oxygen tubes till they cough to consciousness, then I'll go 'quick, crack a joke' and hardly any of them do. Some of them will instead soil themselves and call a nurse to get out of it. Imagine being so reluctant to say something funny that you instead shit your bed! And I know what you're thinking 'old folk shitting their bed, what could be funnier than that?' And you're right, sure I'll laugh my ass off, but often they'll try and chuckle along with me and pretend it doesn't bother them, and it's just not funny unless they're horrified, disgusted at themselves, and clearly well past having lost the will to live.

So yeah, it was hard to begrudge these dead old guys who actually had a sense of humor. But one guy who could begrudge almost anyone, was Santa.

And it was hard to begrudge Santa for that. He had not had a happy past fifty years or so. Due to a number mess up in the front of his house he was regularly getting hit in the face with bricks. The scientist who was his next door neighbor had invented cheese, after a weird obsession with trying to get cows to go home earlier had led to him experimenting with making cows lighter by removing their milk, and then taunting them with products he made from it hoping it would make them run home to cry behind their sofas, and he was now living a life swimming in sharp-tasting cheese money, throwing thrilling soirees, with all the cheese you could eat, which attracted the most beautiful girls in all of Greenland, none of which would look at Santa twice, unless they came by asking 'can I borrow one of your mothers toys, I'm way too cheese bloated to have actual sex, oh not like I would with you anyway, you chubby freak, I'm mean with your neighbor, Dr Sciencewhattsy, wow, he had science in his surname, no wonder he turned out the be a scientist, my name is Sarah Bestblowjobimaginable, I wonder what I’ll do if I ever decide to get a job'? And then they'd use his toilet, leaving cheese turds so pungent they burned holes in the porcelain, and left smells so bad that the bricks thrown at him would disintegrate within days of smacking him in the face.

Oh plus Santa was unhappy because he had just remembered he had found a watch that could stop time, and he could have had the most amazing life imaginable, even by the most fertile of imaginative minds, but the day he found it he'd put it down to watch TV, and forget it was there.

Now that he remembered that he had it he needed to come up with a plan. He sat down to a delicious feast of Grit Dumplings, with a side of Gritty Scarpariello and a desert of Profiteroles La Grit, all with a frosty of mug of Grit Juice, and some things became clear to him - eating and drinking nothing but grit was fucking awesome, living in an gritty house made of grit was sweet, and bathing and sleeping in grit was the dream, following his mother's footsteps had been a great success, even if almost all of the rest of the country had switched to 'currency' for pay, and bathed in water and ate pizza, he wasn’t tempted to join them, because he was happy, and comfortable. And that was exactly what had been holding him back. He needed to delve towards discomfort if he was to achieve his life goals.

So he headed for the worst place he had ever heard of, a little place called  ‘slightly further south from where he was and still in Greenland. This was the worst place he'd ever heard of as he’d heard their fermented grit was sometimes out of season, and also because knowing about other places outside of Greenland had yet to be invented, and that what something Santa knew for sure, after many long conversations with foreign tourists that he'd run into at the local amusement park. So south is where he headed.

Unfortunately the bird he decided to follow south turned out to be retarded. And he ended up at the North Pole. Here he ran into a small society, where years of inbreeding and bestiality had lead to magic animals and elf like humans. It was really gross and freaky. Santa knew he was home.

From there the following took place:

- Santa told all the freaks he'd kidnap them and put them in a circus if they didn't become his slaves and make shit for him.
- He hooked up with the most 'normal' one, a little lady named Mrs, and he married her, and then blew a big sigh of relief when he discovered on their wedding night that her vagina was not gritty, nor a reindeer hoof.
- He put into action his decree that ‘One day when I grow up I'm going to spoil all the seemingly happy well off shitty assholes until they ALL disappear!'
- Likewise for his other decree ‘Coal for anyone with a unique spirit, that's my plan!’
- Using his watch that could stop time made it possible for him to play out his plan to every house in the world.
- He hoped that his third decree ‘I’ll never clean my ear without eating the wax again’! was forgotten, and not mentioned in his biography.
- When people started saying stuff like ‘yeah right, as if Santa could hit every house on earth in one night, instead of telling them about the watch, he’d snap-chat all their friends with a picture of his mothers vagina.
- The world embraced and became to adore Santa, and his methods, and not a single flaw in his system has ever been even noticed, let-alone discovered.
- A bunch of show off lying ass songwriters re-told his story, changing the facts for lame shit, and they torture people with them each year.
- The lazy rectum committee re-named their product ‘street vendor hotdogs’ and they actually took off.
-Greenland changed their name to Graceland for one day, and Elvis was so pissed off he shit himself to death.
- Coal eventually got a dirty name, after someone rubbed coal all over it, so Santa decided to just start giving the interesting people nothing at all, no one seemed to notice.
- People began to honor Santa’s history by eating grit pies on Christmas, although they call them ‘fruit cake’.
- And everyone lived happily ever after.

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