First of all I want to thank all the fine brats who showed up for the Christmas party at my shack next to the railway track. I did expect a couple of more girlies of course but I'll reckon that had a little something to do with a bunch of scout girls that got stuck in a railway strike a couple of villages ahead and I do understand that such fragile little creatures aren't too eager to stumble through the woods in the dark. Imagine they'd run into some red-nosed reindeer guy, hey, you know what I mean! But I'll treat you with some pictures and an audio report from my foolin' around with my theosophist friends who all came over and stayed for the night, you know what I mean!

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Culturcide wanted to spill the guests' appetite by blurting about their Depressed Christmas but I quickly interferred and called in Suicide with a prayer Hey Lord to set things straight. Everybody then got back in the mood because James Brown told us that Santa Claus Goes Straight to the Ghetto, and yes oh my some of the ghetto girls got in a dancing mood already! While everybody set out to unfold the tents for later that night Brenda Lee whipped them with some soft Jingle Bell Rock. Stompin' Tom Connors lit the campfire and soon the girls sung along with Gloria. Then unfortunately Loo and Placido made a quite quick move and told they were ready for a real Horny Christmas. That definitely shook ass because soon after Hillary Clinton performed a stunning version of Rudolph the Deep Throat Reindeer. By now my head was spinning with visions of Hillary's wild behind that ToToM called me Rudolph the Paranoid Reindeer. When I really wanted to get going however The Reverend Horton Heat yelled out Run Rudolph Run and that was actually he first little downer of the evening. I grabbed myself together and whispered to Arthur Lyman to bring back some order with his Mele Kalikimaka version of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and gracefully he did. In the meantime I did manage to lure some girls into one of the smaller tents and The Going Thing was telling us smoothly to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas and that was just what I had in mind when suddenly Frank Sinatra was crooning about Mistletoe and Holly. My God, could that be the ravishingly Holly from the Bastard Art Gallery? I pulled up my pants and hurried out the smaller tent towards the mistletoe but damn, everybody had gone and only left behind was a Korean Little Drummer Boy! Damn me, was I going to miss all the hot'n'ready action again or what? I decided to bargain Mr Fab into some dirtiness and he agreed most wilful with a fine performance of G-L-O-RIAA. By now I was shivering with excitement because it would be soon now before I would find my tender luck in the Silent Night that by now Shakin' Stevens was cooking up. I was already wriggling with clothes in another small tent when Brenda Lee came fluttering by, wishing me a Happy Holiday. But I had my eyes set on Claudine Longet who was swirling her jet black hair back and forth and twisting her behind very much towards me. When I was all ready to curl around her hot thighs I heard her whisper I Don't Intend to Spend Christmas without You, but that was in her damn mobile phone! Ah damn, I really do hate those mobile phones! As you can imagine I was having a depressed Christmas myself by now so I drank some more Grand Marnier I could bear and withdrew into my dreams with Mae West whom I declared all My New Year's Resolutions.

It appeared that I left my taperecorder running that night, so with some extra spinning of my usual turntables and microphone, cassette player and a synthesizer I managed to squeeze it all into 44.44 minutes so all you boys but even more you girls can also enjoy some of my Christmas imagination.

Yours truly,

Carl Cryplant