Deine rauchende göttin wartet

Isn't it that time of year that your pathetic lame little ass should be out shopping for Christmas gifts? Where the hell is mine? Not convinced yet, well my thick cloudy lung filling smoke should finish you off. Blowing it in your face, making you beg for some, and thank me for all. While I work your dumb little man mind into submission. Trying my best to be a nice goddess for the holidays, but I slip and remind you how pathetic your addiction is to me, your devotion.