I am the absolute WORST secret Santa you could ever imagine.
Why? Because I never give anyone presents for Christmas!
I am the type of Santa that inspires nightmares.
You know the dream where you excitedly run into the living room – washed, primped and ready to brutally rip packaging apart – when you suddenly realise: there are no presents awaiting their pleasurable death by your hands underneath the Christmas tree. *at which point you wake up screaming
Thinking about it, I am probably a secret Krampus.
Just acknowledging this makes me feel like my cat does, when, instead of serving her the best, moist chicken-bits the budget store has to offer, I throw another heap of dusty, dry-food into her food bowl.
It makes me feel like an egoistic and uncaring bitch.