The 12th day of What the Juice likes about Christmas

Here we are at day 12 of what the Juice loves about Christmas. Let's just dispense with the pleasantries and get to it, shall we? Today, it’s simple enough. It’s cookies. Yes, the Juice loves all the freshly baked cookies this time of year. Believe you me, the Juice don’t need Christmas to go on about his love of cookies. My love of the cookie is long and deep. We’re talkin’ true love here. Some folkels believe their soul mate to be some mythical person. Some person that supposedly completes them. I hate to tell ya, but there ain’t no such person. The only completion comes from inside. Not from some sexy bitch in a Santa outfit, but...uhhhh, we'll get to that later on in the week. But you keep on searchin’ you’re bound to find that "soul mate" eventually. Why dontcha check match.com? She might be waitin' for ya there. As if...

However, if the Juice were to say that he had a soul mate it would be in the cookie. Nothing has ever has given Juice such satisfaction than a warm cookie. Not even sex with two super hot chicks at the same time. Not that the Juice would know what sex is like with two super hot chicks, but I’m sure it’s no where as good as a dozen or so cookies. What the Juice is sayin’ here is that I could get a hundred hand jobs from a hundred different women, for a hundred different days and still that would not match the satisfaction of eatin’ a batch of homemade cookies.

Yea…you read that right. Cookies over sex. Cookies ain’t so fleetin’ as sex. Well, that’s not entirely true, either. The Juice tends to get that same empty feel after eatin a few dozen cookies as when he’s cranked off for the third time today lookin’ at internet porn. I write all this cause I know none of ya’s can read it. See, the Juice sometimes writed in a secret code. And right now is one of those times. Otherwise, if ya actually knew what the Juice was goin' on about, it might be plenty embarrassin'.

But, I digress...

However, there’s a caveat for my love of cookies. Sure my love is long and deep, but it’s for homemade cookies. I’m not gonna waste your time and mine by dissin’ store boughts here. In a pinch (which is everyday other than christmasfucktaculas), store boughts are ok. But homemade cookies? That’s goodness on a stick. But, without the stick.

And the only time that the Juice gets to indulge in homemade cookies is Christmastime. The missus bakes batch after batch. And the Juice consumes batch after batch. However, the missus is seriously slackin’ this year. Cookie one was not yet been baked or eaten. I don’t know what’s goin' on with that bitch, but it ain’t cookie bakin’. And I call her “bitch”, cause I’m writin’ in that secret code that no one can read besides the Juice again. Otherwise, the Juice would probably be a tad more respectful. For fear of the flyin’ meat tenderizers and no Christmas cookies.