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Sometimes you just gotta rob Santa Claus

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This will be a summary… For the past twelve months, I have chronicled my exploits after having attempted to rob Santa Claus for the world’s presents.What is left out to those who have not been watching since Christmas time 2016 is why.
Well here I am to explain it.
1 – Rudolph is a dope fiend
[link] 2 – Santa is Rudolph’s Dealer
[link] 3 – BECAUSE Santa is Rudolph’s dealer, he should be robbed
[link] 4 – Shit is now going south, but I am turning it into money right?
[link] 5 – My greed is getting complicated, but shit is still moving
[link] 6 – Too. Damn. Good. To. Be. True
[link] 7 – I’ve been robbed!
[link] 8 – Fuck robbed, I been kidnapped!
[link] 9 – I want OUT of this situation now…
[link] 10 – … but DAMN this money is good!
[link] 11 – I’m forever to be a victim of my own desires,
[link] 12 – The liberal media only exists sometimes to complicate shit.
[link] 13 – I’m getting out this shit, I have a plan!
[link] 14 – Resolution…Santa wins
[link]

I have written THOUSANDS of pages of shit through …
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Minding my damned business...

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I remember I went to get 2 tires that morning. Kumho 711, size 215/45 17. I'd gotten 2 for the front two weeks earlier, so the first time in 3 cars I was sporting a full set of ONE kind of tire at all 4 corners and happily on my way.
Then I went to work, did 4 hours of overtime. AT&T Wireless was not allowed to see me on a Saturday for anything south of $20something an hour, I was SERIOUS about that shit.
Jesse, Jessica, Jerome, Jenna and Josh were all in town for Father's Day, I spent the afternoon trying to learn Jessica to drive 5-speed, and I am willing to bet that now -- 6 years, 2 months and 2.5 weeks later -- she still can't do it... I'm a shitty teacher when my student is not picking up what I am putting down.

Anyway. We cooked out at the house, but I had planned to meet with Roger, Brandon and Jason at Celebration Station that evening, then another cookout and party at Ryan's , so following a good grilled meal with fam and a few beers, I went to Celebrati…
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True Story©... The Big Payoff pt V

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Angel on my left shoulder, telling me “Phlip, don’t get on that plane.”
     Devil on my right shoulder, telling me “Phlip, get that money and get the fuck out.” Internal tug-of-war, provide for my family in a manner that I had to learn to contribute to as a child, in a manner that I might have never imagined so easily attainable or stay here in the United States and drive this bag around and watch these companies shovel out all of the magical coal they might so need.  Pick your poison, Phillip.  Slow burn and hard work or hit this international lick and be straight one at a time.
     Why am I even second-guessing myself?  I KNEW I shouldn’t be on this fucking plane.  As opportunistic as I have been about trapping this cash over the past six months – I am at a million and a half now with my under-the-table museum contracts – I am still quite liberal as far as environmental issues go.  At least those in my own back yard, I feel something when I see my family and friends of my fa…
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