I really love Criminal Records. I’d do anything for them. In fact, I love them so much that I smoke shitty cigars, douse myself in equally shitty cologne, don a Santa outfit and then allow store customers to sit on my lap for a day around Christmas. What is this? Well, it’s Asshole Santa, you dunce.
With my trusty sidekicks Dookie and Crappy the Elves, we endure six hours of non-stop abuse. However, the abuse goes both ways. We dish it out in great big heapin’ bowls and often times traumatize little children and/or humorless coffee shop types in the process.