Xmas Wordplay (Fun for the Kids!)

Xmas:

X-mass production;

X-mass psychology;

masses of X-eyes listlessly staring, joyfully absent and laughing in merriments;

X-masses roaming the streets like homeless people looking for food, stressed and alone; the X-mass of the Earth is equal to the combined weight of every person who is not clinically, but visually and obviously, obese (extreme mass);

eXtra-mass, too, because everything produced by it and promoted by it and consumed by it is indeed superfluous and “extra”;

X-masturbation, all day, every day, for the entire year until the times comes to come, to pump that Xmas joy over all those pretty, waiting faces, all the kiddies and the blindfolded, handcuffed parents staring dumbly around as that shower of white, white snow covers all in head to toe and little, little do they know that this, indeed, is Santa’s blow AND X-masturbating priest, for this of course is the grandest time of the year for Santa and he alike, what with all those excited infantiles around—that is, the physically matured ones also, because surely it’s just as arousing to fiddle with a child-like adult…;

X-mas-ter, for he, He, the father, the Fathers—they all lead, with their big white hands, wise white beards, outstretched arms, alluring pseudo-warmth;

X-Mass, the Holy Communion with the X-massive cock of patriarchy, forever penetrating everything it sees, every domain it self-righteously claims as its own, when of course, the truer communion, oh so sweet, is to be had elsewhere, in other places, in limitless atmospheres where the true gods roam the land, the forest, the hills and rivers, and where intoxication is ecstatic, not X-static;

X-masculine, for He, He and He, the Holy Trinity, is, in fact, of course — what else could it be but — She, the latter being, without doubt, you and me, forever-bound eternity, served over a glassy lake with the perpetual realisation that I am not at stake, nor doth the guilt of my sins maketh this true divine lake one of “hellfire”;

X-mass consumption of all the right satiating agents, to drench you in contentedness, and leave you waiting so keenly for the next loop…