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Atlanta There once was a gal from Atlanta Who had trouble believing in Santa. But a glimpse at Saint Nick With his candy-striped stick Made her faith in his gifts grow giganta. She wrote, Santa, my life is a bore And my friend says I'm kind of a whore. Would you visit me please? And before she could sneeze He was ringing the bell at her door. The second she let the old guy in His tongue to her crotch got to flying Where her nutcracking thighs Destroyed his disguise Revealing that Santa was Brian. You'd think that this might be a drag But Atlanta was not one to bag A thing she had going So she carried on blowing Until she was ready to shag. Thus plying Atlantean wiles She had Santa in several styles. Then they hopped in his sleigh, To his team gave a hey! And drove them by Christmas! for miles. Thus endeth the tale of Atlanta: The girl that got presents from Santa. Or should I say Bri? For Brian's the guy That gave her that New Year’s infanta. |
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