Santa's Workshop Quotes

YOU DEFILED SANTA’S WORKSHOP! YOUR OPINION IS INVALID!

It was like Santa’s workshop had exploded in the cabin. There were garlands, paper chains, even a giant tree in the corner. Jenna shuddered. It was her worst nightmare come to life. After being fully immersed in Christmas for the past 1,825 days—

Yeah, and maybe Satan will repent and give up ruling the underworld to become an elf in Santa’s workshop.

A man’s ability to give is dwarfed by his ability to take. Those who profit by fulfilling man’s need to take by giving will be the most powerful on earth.

It’s all just a lot to take in, okay? What if your mom came up to you and said, ‘Oh, Cameron, by the way, your father is an elf from Santa’s workshop and I’m an alien from outer space, so that makes you—” “Something really messed up,” he cut in.

This is always always always what she wished a bazaar to be. Demre, proudly claiming to be the birthplace of Santa Claus, was direly lacking in workshops of wonder. Small corner stores, an understocked chain supermarket on the permanent edge of bankruptcy and a huge cash and carry that serviced the farms and the hotels squeezed between the plastic sky and the shingle shore. Russians flew there by the charter load to sun themselves and get wrecked on drink. Drip irrigation equipment and imported vodka, a typical Demre combination. But Istanbul; Istanbul was the magic. Away from home, free from the humid claustrophobia of the greenhouses, hectare after hectare after hectare; a speck of dust in the biggest city in Europe, anonymous yet freed by that anonymity to be foolish, to be frivolous and fabulous, to live fantasies. The Grand Bazaar! This was a name of wonder. This was hectare upon hectare of Cathay silk and Tashkent carpets, bolts of damask and muslin, brass and silver and gold and rare spices that would send the air heady. It was merchants and traders and caravan masters; the cornucopia where the Silk Road finally set down its cargoes. The Grand Bazaar of Istanbul was shit and sharks. Overpriced stuff for tourists, shoddy and glittery. Buy buy buy. The Egyptian Market was no different. In that season she went to every old bazaar in Sultanahmet and Beyoğlu. The magic wasn’t there.

So they told us all about how other kids were deceived by their parents, how the toys the grown-ups claimed were made by little elves wearing bell caps in their workshop at the North Pole actually had labels on them saying MADE IN JAPAN.

The town looks like it belongs on a Christmas card or in a snow globe. It’s so Christmassy, even Santa set up a second workshop here.

Tell me that’s Quebec and not Santa’s workshop,” Leo said.

Heart racing at the anguished cry, I dropped my bookings diary on the counter and dashed into the workshop at the back of my shop. ‘What’s wrong?’ My younger sister looked up from the table. ‘It’s awful. I’ve killed Santa.’ I looked into her mournful blue eyes and couldn’t help

To keep your kid safe from polar bears in the Arctic Circle, don't take your kids to the Arctic Circle. Seriously, what kind of vacation is that? There are no major theme parks, and Santa's workshop is just one big tourist trap. Try Hawaii instead.

As opposed to disrespecting Santa’s Workshop by swishing with semen?” she questions. Jesus God, you give ONE blowjob in the shed out back and no one lets you live it down.

The only problem with sharing a room with her sisters, Jessie decided, was that she couldn’t wrap their Christmas presents in there. Fortunately, the garage was nearly always empty, so she’d hauled everything in there and spread it across the workbench. Opening a back page of her inspiration book, she glanced from the list to the Santa’s workshop–sized mess of fabric, scrapbooking paper, scissors, tape, and grocery bags layered to hide the presents inside.

My name is JJ and I would like to welcome you to the happiest place in the world, Santa's workshop.

Be one of Santa’s workshop elves or be the Tooth Fairy’s assistant?

Many a dinosaur was probably swept away by floodwaters or entombed by mud avalanches. But the megamonsoons also had another effect. They helped divide Pangea into environmental provinces, characterized by different amounts of precipitation, varying severity of the monsoonal winds, and different temperatures. The equatorial region was extremely hot and humid, a tropical hell that would make summer in today’s Amazon seem a trip to Santa’s workshop by comparison. Then there were vast stretches of desert, extending about 30 degrees of latitude on either side of the equator—like the Sahara, only covering a much broader swath of the planet. Temperatures here were well into the hundreds (over 35 degrees Celsius), probably all year long, and the monsoonal rains that pounded other parts of Pangea were absent here, offering little more than a trickle of precipitation. But the monsoons exerted a great impact in the midlatitudes. These areas were slightly cooler but much more wet and humid than the deserts, far more hospitable to life. Herrerasaurus, Eoraptor, and the other Ischigualasto dinosaurs lived in such a setting, smack in the middle of the midlatitude humid belt of southern Pangea.

We spent the morning watching YouTube videos of some naughty Thunder From Down Under men dressed in Santa costumes, thrusting their way around Santa’s workshop. Had no idea it was a Bawhovier December first tradition, but it sure did put some color in my cheeks.