Apparently, while I was at work on Sunday, my apartment mate attempted to watch a Gamera movie, but had to switch it off because it was frightful poofle. Gamera LOVES children. Maybe it's the soft centres. Giant flying nuclear turtle flies around loving the kiddie-winkies, man, that just sounds skeevy right off the top. In teensie fey voices.
"They taste like crunchy frog!"
Her assertion, not mine. I hold by the soft gooey centres. And, just like I look askance at Santa ("hey kid, come sit on my lap") I automatically assume that there must be something extremely dubious, downright religious man of god like, about the whole business.
Who the heck comes up with perverted crap like this?
With hints of Odin, so the Norse also had a hand in the crimson degenerate.
All of Northern Europe, really.
Gamera is reptilian Santa. Larger, fiercer, and likely to set off Geiger counters from here to Timbuktoo. A mutant Santa for the Cold War Era.
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