Someone just sharted my pants.

They were a bit bitey.

rather,

Bad Santa is such a fucking awesome movie. I like everything about it, it's easily in my top ten. I want to get as grizzled as Billy Bob when I grow up. I want to be an eating, drinking, shitting, fucking Santa Clause. Actually, I want to be living fucking proof that there is no Santa Clause.

I FUCKING LOVE THIS MOVIE MAN. Samir from Office Space bends Billy Bob over and starts dry humping him in the ass saying, "Who's the bitch now, Santy Clause?! Faggy Clause!? Faggy Clause?!"

Yeah, I think I'm ready to get grizzled. Well more grizzled. I'm pretty mean-spirited. I've got a few gray hairs. I can get a nice stubble going on. My outlook on life worsens daily. I just need to drop thirty or fourty pounds. And start drinking more liquor.

And the kid in this movie breaks my heart. "I want a gorilla named Davey for beating up the skateboard kids who pull on my underwear. And he can take his orders from the Talking Walnut, so it wouldn't be my bad thing."

Jesus, kid.