Gonzo Christmas Orgy __hot__ Link

He looked at me. He looked at the chaos. He looked at the hamster cage now full of pickled eggs.

By Dr. Gonzo (on assignment from the Ghost of Christmas Whatever) gonzo christmas orgy

By 3 a.m., the party had become a philosophy. The tree was upside down. The snow machine had been refilled with flour. Half the guests were building a fort out of pizza boxes, and the other half were crying into a karaoke microphone singing "Fairytale of New York" like their lives depended on it. He looked at me

You haven’t seen a Christmas party until you’ve seen one through the bottom of a glass that’s been laced with something that tastes like peppermint and poor decisions. It was 10 p.m. on December 23rd, and I was standing in a loft that smelled like burnt gingerbread and regret. The host—let’s call him “Nick”—had decorated his place like a North Pole brothel. Tinsel draped over a stripper pole. A Nativity scene where the Wise Men were doing lines of powdered sugar off a copy of The Economist . The snow machine had been refilled with flour