Before, During and After Christmas

Mmm. Well... At least the ice age has taken a reprieve for the next couple of days. The temperature has finally reached above freezing temperatures. First time for that in almost a month. Right now we're sitting at a nice, balmy 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The ongoing monsoon we're experiencing, currently, here in the Midwestern U.S., is washing away the eight or so inches of ice and snow we got around the beginning of December. And this is the end of December. Ridiculous.

And yeah, I know people have it worse somewhere else... like in New York, for instance. It just seems like it's taken a goddamn eternity for the white shit to thaw out and for me to be able to walk five feet anywhere I go without risking slippage and neck breakage. With the advent of this current thaw out we're experiencing, I'll be treated to the sight of morons wearing shorts in these chilly, yet not sub-freezing temps. I've already seen a couple idiots wearing nothing but shorts, shoes and imbecilic grins at Wally World. This type of carefree simpleton behavior happens every year when we have even the slightest thaw out during the winter months.

For those reasons and more is why I'm not in my usual delightful mood and why I haven't been doing the blogging thing, lately. I've been too angry, depressed and seething with madness to do much on the computer except check out a few porn sites, humor sites and The Huffington Post website. It's a good thing my wife won't allow me to buy a gun, I suppose. God knows how many bodies would be lying around. Happy Holidays, everyone! And don't forget to go fuck yourselves silly! But not you, my cherished reader, not you. :)

Ah... As you can see I'm purging myself of the nasty negative thoughts in my head by sharing them with you. Isn't that nice of me? It's nice to share, they say.

Surprisingly, there was no carnage or destruction at my wife's Christmas family dinner this year. No mirrors or ceramic keepsakes were broken into a million pieces like last year. And the cat remained safe this year, unlike last year, where it was constantly being chased and whipped by a cat toy by my 3 little nieces. The reason for this is because (A) The cat ran and wisely hid under the bed when it heard my nieces menacing giggling when they entered the place and (B) Half of the time, while here, they were playing around with their little electronic gadgets or watching an insipid Nickelodeon TV show. The sound and sights of children shows drove me nuts time to time but at least everything, including the cat, remained intact.

The only bad moment happened while I was whispering to my sister about the eldest niece's boyfriend. My oldest niece is 17. Her boyfriend is 18 and weighs close to 500 pounds. I was explaining to my sister that the boyfriend has broken all the chairs, a heavy duty recliner and a coffee table with his hefty, morbidly obese ass by sitting in and on them, of course. He destroyed these fairly expensive pieces of furniture at my sister-in-law's and mother-in-law's places and nothing was said to the behemoth, as a result. I don't get that part, especially. I would have told the guy to pay for the damages, lose weight (at least for his own health) or something.

A week ago, I told my sister-in-law that the boyfriend wasn't allowed up to my place for the Christmas dinner because I was afraid he would actually go through my upstairs floor apartment and possibly land on and kill the tenants below. It sounds funny, but in his case, I think it could happen. Beside, I don't have anything he could sit on and take his weight without being crushed to molecules.

This same guy has had his picture in the local paper for entering and winning these all-you-can-gorge-on contests. One contest was for how many Twinkies you can stuff in your big fat face and the other was for pigging out on corn dogs or something like that. In other words, he not only engages in gluttony, he flaunts it, is proud of it and celebrates it by entering in these disgusting competitions.

When my mother-in-law overheard me talking to my sister, Christmas Day, about this dude, she got bent out of shape about it and started defending him. She told me how he had promised to marry my niece after he went through culinary art school and how nice he was and how he made her cry by saying all this wonderful stuff about her granddaughter and so on. With the rate he's going, I don't think he's going to live long enough to accomplish any of his goals.

I have asked my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law if anyone has ever warned him that being morbidly obese like that was a danger to his health. Both said, "No." They said that as far as they knew, not even the boy's parents have tried to talk to him about it or curb his weight with correctly portioned meals.

I said, "That makes me sick to hear that and I don't really have anything to do with him."

In fact, the boy's parents actually encourage their kid to go to my sister-in-law's place to eat all of her food when it's dinner time. And eat, he does. Everything. In. Sight. And nothing is ever said to him about that, either. Disgusting and amazing. I would have already knocked his ass out with a baseball bat, or at the very least, tell him to go graze in the back yard for nourishment. My tolerance for repetitious ignorant behavior is little to none. It's a good thing I don't have children.

Strangely enough, I've been told this enormous 18 year old kid's health is okay. For now, I'm guessing . Of course, it will be just a matter of time before he will eventually have problems with any or all of the following: Diabetes. Coronary Heart Disease. High Blood Pressure. Stroke.

To name just a few.

While I'm on the subject of diabetes and other health problems associated with that disease, another curious type of behavior has come to my attention. I know of two family members and a friend who have severe diabetes and a few of the other health conditions I mentioned and none of them seem to give a shit about it. They eat and drink whatever they want, no matter how much sugar and fat it contains. INSANITY.

Look everyone, FREE DIABETES! Come and get it!

If people want to kill themselves by ingesting whatever they want while having diabetes, they're going about it in the slowest, most torturous way possible- aside from disemboweling yourself with a small fork.

The truth is: Diabetes is synonymous with a gradual, often painful degradation of the body's parts and internal organs and ultimately- death will fuck you in the ass, as a result- with no lubricant. When you have diabetes, like I happen to have, just giving a "fuck it" attitude towards it and consuming what you want, guarantees all manner of horrible things to come your way. Like being hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine, for instance (no more caffeine for you, fucker). Or how about the lack of good blood circulation which will cause you to lose your feet and your sight. Does that sound like a good time? And healing from a wound or overcoming sickness, no matter how minor? Forget about it, baby!

Here's a funny story... As I was plunging an insulin needle into my belly a couple days ago, a friend knocked on the door. Since I knew who it was, I told him to come in. He came inside the apartment and was jabbering away about letting himself in until he noticed me slowly inserting a needle into my belly.

As I was cringing and curling my toes in discomfort, he asks, "Does that hurt?"

I didn't reply at first because (A) That's a stupid question and (B) I'm kind of busy at the moment and (C) If I don't focus on where I'm puncturing, I could bend the needle in my belly and tear open my flesh. I've done that last one a couple times, due to my wife causing me stress with inane jabber or the time when I was on the cruise ship and it lurched to the right while the needle slit my belly open. Good times!

Anyhow, my wife comes home from work and gives my friend a Christmas gift that I'm thinking he will likely take a pass on because he suffers from diabetes and has to take a couple pills for, as a result (no insulin yet, but he's working on it, I think). The gift he opens is a nearly two pound bag of gourmet chocolate caramel covered popcorn that has about a trillion (or so) grams of sugar in every piece. My wife thought he would like it because he likes sweets. I was just going to him a gift certificate at Lowe's or something but she thought of this, instead. Eh, okay.

Anyway, he opens the bag and instantly starts to gobble down the the contents of the bag with reckless abandon, diabetes be damned. I laughed, as i always do when I see someone doing something bizarre and I asked, "What about your diabetes?"

He said, almost incoherently, while munching and crunching, "My last blood sugar test result at the doctor's office turned out okay."

For now, I thought. He's very lucky in the way that he eats and doesn't exercise that his blood sugar counts haven't skyrocketed. I, on the other hand, watch what I eat and exercise and I'm forced to take insulin and pills for my diabetes. Go figure. Am I somewhat jealous? You bet. I'm not perfect by any means.

The last couple of weeks, I've been severely depressed because of mom not being here for the fifth Christmas in a row. She died in August of 2005 and I was closer to her than any other member of the family. The inner family fracturing, squabbling and accusing my father of killing my mother by my grandmother just adds heaping helpings of stress to my usual decaying mental health at this time of year. To counteract this, I would go out and take pictures of Christmas scenery in the town surrounding me. Only when I'm not around the usual negative people (family and friends) and outside, do I receive anything remotely describing peace. Sad, isn't it?

You can see these holiday pictures at my other website, Pics For Kicks. Going out and taking these pics is very therapeutic. And taking the holiday shots reminds me of the times, every Christmas, when my sister, dad, mom and I would go out, drive around at night and look at all the decorated holiday scenery in all of the neighboring towns.

To top off the near ending of the holidays, my dad slipped, fell and cracked his head wide open on the corner of a wall the day after Christmas. He's okay now but it scared the shit out of my sister and I. He fell at the assisted living place he's living in, due to taking his diabetes medicine but not eating any food with his medication. That will drop the ol' blood sugar to the basement. When I came to the emergency room, he was lying in the hospital bed, talking calmly to me, like nothing happened.

He looked fine but then...

As I sat down in a chair, he asked how he looked to me. All I could see at the moment was a tiny paper cut on his forehead. I said, " You look alright to me. Just a small cut above your nose."

I wondered silently why he had been rushed to the hospital.

But then...

I saw blood spreading on the pillow behind his head. I got up, walked over behind his bed and saw the four inch gaping gash in his scalp on the back of his head and almost fainted. Just then a nurse walked in and put a fresh bandage on his head. Five or so minutes pass and a doctor walks into the room, takes a stapler and staples the gash together with 8 staples.

Ca-Chunk... Ca- Chunk... and so on. He ended up staying overnight because his blood sugar was so low it wasn't even registering on the meter.

I remember the sound of staples going into flesh quite well since I had the same thing done to me when I was 21. Right after my double hernia surgery. I sat in a slightly leaned back chair as Dr. Frable Ca-Chunked Ca-Chunked twenty one staples between my belly and just above my crotch. He gave no warning he was about to do this. All he said beforehand was that he was going to check how the two wide incisions appeared. And then the surprise! Whoopee!

Good times.

Trying to fuck without literally busting a gut was quite the trick back then but I somehow did it. Back then I didn't have diabetes but I did have raging, horny hormones that made me do stupid things like trying to fuck not long after surgery.

Anyway, dad is back at the assisted living place. They're keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't go out and drive while healing. He's under strict doctor's orders. I'm sure today or any of the upcoming days he will be screaming and throwing the usual verbal insults at my sister and I, thinking we had something to do with this. Business, as usual.

Yep. Happy fuckin' holidays, everyone. I'm sure the new year will be just as delightful (sarcasm intended) as 2010, minus the honestly pleasurable reprieve of the week long Caribbean cruise we went on this past summer and the times I wasn't around family. During those times, I had nothing but peace.

Below, you'll find a humorous, truthful Christmas message from Bill Maher. After watching it, remember that Oprah Winfrey will or already has debuted her private network, OWN. Which, of course, stands for the Oprah Winfrey Network.

A Christmas Message from Bill Maher - watch more funny videos

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1 of this enchanting story. Now, where was I? Oh yes, here we go...

It wasn't long before both road weary travelers slipped beneath the sheets and fell fast asleep in each of their own beds at the Sheraton hotel. Toadie was lying on his stomach, snoring. During the first few moments of Toadie's slumber, Toadie's anus began it's symphony of sweet, melodious flatulence. This was the result of consuming massive amounts of chili earlier in the afternoon. Who could have guessed that a displeasing incident would occur after just a few hours of rest? Unfortunately, the mentally challenged man's rectum reached a gaseous frenetic crescendo, producing a geyser of diarrhea that spurted through the top bed covers over his lower torso and splattered down atop Toadie's hairy backside.

Instead of waking him, Toadie was influenced in his dreams by the spattering shit juice. Still sound asleep, Toadie cried out, "Toadie loves standing beneath the spray of the waterfall!"

Then Toadie giggled, childlike and endearingly.

Valerie and Toadie awoke the following morning, feeling refreshed but not feeling quite so clean. Valerie sat up in her bed, yawned and felt sticky. After opening her eyes, she noticed small brown blotches on her arms and in her hair. She screamed, instantly, when she realized the blotches was feces. Toadie woke up to Valerie's shriek and quickly sat on the edge of his bed. When he saw Valerie covered with spots of anal gravy, he began to laugh, heartily. Laughing, in turn, gave Toadie a rising woodie.

Valerie's scream increased in volume when she saw Toadie. The somewhat dim-witted 33 year old was completely covered in butt broth. He appeared to be a hideous, hairy, chocolate colored monster. And to make matters worse, he was beating off. When Valerie could no longer scream, she violently retched until the contents of her stomach had emptied onto the floor. Toadie, of course, spooged into the lake of vomit.

After they got cleaned up, they quickly got dressed and got back into the car before the hotel's staff could get wind, so to speak, of what had transpired during their stay. As Val and her jovial co traveler jumped in the car and made a hasty getaway, Toadie rejoiced, "Toadie thinks this is a Shit and Run."

Despite what Val had endured, she felt compelled to cackle at Toadie's pun. Maybe it was stress, she wondered.

Traveling westward, Val and Toadie stopped in the small town of Calvin, Oklahoma. Valerie turned down the radio that had been playing incessant Christmas music for the last couple states. Toadie's eyes had glazed over during half of the westerly travel and he was singing, with much exuberance, to every festive tune played. This was tearing at Valerie's patience.

She had an idea.

Valerie pulled into the driveway of an old abandoned, dilapidated farmhouse and said to Toadie, "Hey Toadie, you know what's more fun than singing to Christmas music?"

Toadie replied, "Toadie is thinking of snow and herpes."

Valerie said, "No, Toadie, this is more fun." With that said, she withdrew a bag of marijuana from her purse.

"Wow," said Toadie. Then he said, "Toadie likes oregano."

Valerie smiled and then countered, "This is the blessed herb, my friend."

Soon, after they shared a few joints, Toadie seemed to calm down and relax, which was what Valerie was shooting for. She was even able to turn to a rock station on the radio without any debate or quarrel with Toadie. Before, he had thrown a fit if she had tried doing that.

Toadie took a toke and handed the rolled ganja back to Valerie. He felt different then and began to see things quite differently. Valerie sucked on the joint, then handed it back, coughing a little. A smile soon spread across her face.

Stoned and content, Toadie turned to Valerie and said, "This shit's good."

Valerie, surprised that Toadie didn't refer to himself in the third person when he just spoke, asked, "Are you okay?"

Toadie replied, "Are any of us really okay? The term 'okay' is subjective, I believe."

Valerie thought she had smoked too much. Toadie was beginning to sound intelligent and even a bit profound to her ears and mind.

Then Toadie put his arm around her and said, "And now I have an idea... if you're game for it, Val."

Valerie said, "Uh-oh... I created a monster." Then she looked down and saw that the man's rigid, impressively sized prick was peeping out at the top of his sweatpants. Toadie smiled at Valerie. Her face showed a look of lust and admiration of his peeping prick's length and girth.

Valerie lightly brushed her fingers along the fat head of Toadie's cock and coyly asked, "Does this idea of yours have something to do with this Yule log you're sporting?" The college student licked her lips.

Toadie chuckled and then answered his companion with a question, "Are you ready for a little Christmastime type adventure?"

Valerie nodded, not knowing what to expect, but she felt game for it- especially if it had something to do with wrapping her lips around Toadie's massive candy cane.

Earlier, on their way through the small town of Calvin, Toadie had noticed several things. One, there a guy in a snowman suit holding up a large sign in the small business area of Calvin. And two, the sign had announced that there would be a town Christmas festival, featuring a church choir of Christmas carolers that would be singing in front of the Town Hall later on that night.

Under Toadie's guidance, Toadie had Val drive them back to the business area of town and wait until the guy in the snowman suit took his lunch break. They didn't have to wait long. When the guy took off for an hour for lunch, he left his snowman suit in the hardware store he had been standing in front of most of the morning.

Toadie slipped inside the store, unnoticed and hurriedly grabbed the suit. His plan was well underway.

Later that evening, at the Town Hall, the mayor of Calvin went up on the stage and invited the St. Mary's Christmas Choir to come up and sing their extensive mix of religious and holiday numbers for the town audience.

As the choir sang "Silent Night", Toadie and Valerie were smoking a blunt in an alley nearby. They felt they needed a little inspiration for the next part of his plan. A couple minutes passed and they were thoroughly fried out of their minds and giggling.

Toadie got out of the car in the dark alley and put on the snowman suit. Valerie helped him put it on. Once that was accomplished, they ran off toward the town's tall, garishly decorated Christmas tree, which happened to stand close to the Town Hall stage. Once there, Valerie reached into Toadie's snowman suit where a hole had been strategically cut out, allowing for Toadie's jolly joystick to escape and stand up, proud and fully engorged. Valerie was increasingly getting wetter as she grappled Toadie's meaty member, stroking it and finally pulling it out of it's "escape hatch".

Valerie eyed Toadie's skin flute with unconstrained desire, turned around and hurriedly pulled down her pants, exposing her bare wet n' ready pussy and puckered asshole. Toadie squirt a little lube from a tube onto Valerie's tender piss flaps after she went down on the ground on her hands and knees. And before you could say "Santa Claus is comin' to town", Toadie repeatedly inserted his beefy bologna into Valerie's delicate dripping slit, causing Valerie to gasp, shriek and moan just as the choir sang the verse, "O come, all Ye Faithful."

The townsfolk and church choir, upon hearing Val's cries of extreme surprise and intense ecstasy, quickly ran over to see where the commotion was coming from. They gazed in awe as they witnessed a snowman savagely fucking Valerie in the cunt.

"My goodness!" cried out the priest. Secretly, however, the holy man's prick was quite hard from the sight.

The mayor, speechless at first, was finally able to ask, "What do you think you're doing with this woman?"

The snowman turned his head and said to the mayor, "I'm fucking her, you dumb ass."

Unrelenting, the snowman continued to plow the depths of Valerie's coochie while the crowd gathered and watched. Valerie's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned so loud, you could swear the sound was coming from an ambulance siren. The citizens of Calvin had never before seen such a spectacle take place in their normally uneventful municipality. Some citizens fainted. Others were outraged. More than a few were aroused, rubbing their crotches, instilled with primal cravings.

Finally, the snowman spurted jets of baby batter into Valerie's gaping twat. After moments of relieving his swollen "snowballsack", Toadie got up, leaving Valerie on her hands and knees, satisfied and dripping with jizz globs and pussy juice. Soon, several police cars were pulling up alongside the curb of Town Hall, after receiving word of a strange public disturbance.

Before the local police were able to get out of their patrol cars, Valerie pulled up her pants and quickly ran after her snowman lover to the nearby back alley where they had parked the car.

Luckily, they were able to escape the pursuing cops and were able to make it to another town without being caught. Once they were sure they were no longer being followed, Val and Toadie checked into a hotel and continued celebrating the holidays in their own special way.

Toadie and Valerie had many other wonderful adventures during their Christmas trip around the country and when they finally made their way back to Rufus' and Maggie's mansion in Chicago, they expressed that they wanted to continue seeing each other. Rufus and Maggie were thrilled that Toadie had finally found someone in his life that he could truly love and share great times with.

And now, gentle readers, our delightful Christmas story has come to an end. I hope you will all have a holly jolly, very Merry Christmas. Peace be with all you!

For previous Toadie stories, click on any of these links:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

Toadie in "The Christmas Trip" (Part 1)

Despite Rufus and Maggie's objection to Toadie leaving their mansion in Chicago, Toadie ventured out on a trip across the country during the Christmas season to take in the sights of all the decorated houses and winter festivals across America.

Rufus and Maggie, worried for their semi-retarded friend's safety, were at least able to convince Toadie that he should be escorted during his month long adventure. Maggie persuaded her younger cousin, Valerie, to escort and drive the 33 year old mentally impaired man wherever he wanted to go. At first, Valerie balked at the suggestion due to college priorities. Of course, it didn't take much persuasion from Rufus and Maggie since they had only recently become millionaires due to a huge inheritance and were able to offer Val a substantial amount of money for the task.

Fifty thousand dollars for playing a taxi driver for an imbecile wouldn't be a bad deal, she thought. Besides, the college freshman felt she badly needed a break from school. Val was feeling burned out.

A week into the trip, Valerie began to understand Toadie and realize, with in-depth discussions with him, that he wasn't as mindless as some assumed him to be. She could tell that he was just one of those type of people that you had to really talk to, on a one-to-one basis, for a certain amount of time, in order to get what he was honestly all about.

One night, on the way to Birmingham, Alabama, Valeria turned to Toadie and asked, "Well, are you ready to check in at a hotel?"

Toadie, staring straight ahead at the festively decorated lampposts along the street, replied, "Toadie farted." This was followed by a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip.

Valerie countered, "Yes, Toadie, I know. I could smell it ten minutes ago and I still can."

Toadie wiped the spittle from his mouth and then said, "The smell makes Toadie hungry for the big bowl of chili Toadie ate this afternoon."

Valerie laughed and then said, "Well, it makes me want to puke my chili up on this dashboard."

Both travelers laughed together then, in effect, causing Toadie's penis to become erect, which happened quite often when he laughed. This odd reaction to laughter would sometimes make for awkward scenes at a Chicago grocery store that Maggie would sometimes take Toadie to, in the past.

Whenever Toadie would see someone or hear something he thought humorous, he would chuckle heartily and eventually sport a 14 inch raging boner which would often times peek out from the top of his sweatpants. Maggie would see his meaty manhood sticking out and tell him to think of something sad to deflate the size of his erection.

Normally, when these events occurred, at least one store patron would invariably see his lengthy piss weasel, stop dead in their tracks and point at Toadie's prick. Some people laughed. Some shrugged. One patron actually screamed and had a massive stroke. Her name was Mabel Strausfurg and she had just celebrated her 70th birthday the day before. When the elderly woman collapsed to the floor, Toadie was shocked and began to sob, uncontrollably.

Customers looked down at the woman breathing her last few breaths on the floor, but instead of running to get help or call for an ambulance, they stood around the old woman and twittered and private messaged their friends and relatives.

Several customers took pictures with their camera phones and other electronic gadgets.

One twenty-ish something year old girl texted this message:

Old biddy just up on dropped on the floor. lol. Most excitement I've had all day.

The bored reactions of the customers vaguely reminded Maggie of the true incident in which Bill Nye, "The Science Guy", collapsed onto the floor before reaching the podium at a college University in California. Everyone in the audience, made up of mostly college students, texted and tweeted what had just happened instead of attempting, in any degree, to help Nye.

Maggie immediately took out her cell phone and called the 911 emergency number before rushing off to alert store management. Quickly, before leaving, she turned to Toadie and said, "Put that thing away before you kill anyone else."

This made Toadie even sadder, feeling immeasurable guilt and as was often the case when he was feeling blue, Toadie would comfort himself by masturbating. This time proved to be yet another such occasion. While being so overwhelmed by emotion that he let out a long sorrowful wail, Toadie abruptly pulled down his sweatpants and urgently wanked his willy .

Toadie exclaimed, suddenly, "Toadie sad!"

With his fat, clenched fist, Toadie began pumping up on down on his love muscle until jets of plentiful semen gushed out, hitting the seemingly bored customers' faces while they tweeted. Not fazed by this in the least, a few crowd members decided to sit down on top of the dying woman and continued to text and twitter. Some of them, in fact, tweeted that they thought there could be a leak in the store ceiling.

This is the actual tweet that one of them typed out:

I think there's something leaking from the ceiling here. Something just hit the top of my head or went in my face. Whatever.

Valerie and Toadie pulled into a snow filled hotel parking lot. The area was enduring subfreezing temperatures for the last several weeks, not allowing for the snow to melt anywhere in the city. Because of this, many of the citizenry in Birmingham were angry and frustrated and took it out on each other and city property in bizarre and vicious ways. One such citizen committed the outrageous act of burning down the city's 35 foot tall Christmas tree for it's measly amount of copper. At least, that was his excuse for burning down the tree.

It seemed, during these times, people were declaring war on Christmas trees. For instance, in Germany, the police arrested a man for making a huge six foot marijuana plant his very own Christmas tree. Justification for his arrest, some had trouble figuring out. The old man wasn't hurting anyone, after all. He was just trying to have a merry Christmas the best way he knew how.

Yet another member of the Birmingham, Alabama community jumped from a bridge to his death. Curiously enough, he was a shopping mall Santa in the area. On his way to the rough waters below, he could be heard to shout, "HO HO HO!" Still alive, though taking in large quantities of river water, the man in the Santa suit thrashed about in the river current and pleaded for help, damning himself for his stupidity.

No help was given to the depressed drowning man, of course. The onlookers, instead, messaged to others on their electronic devices that they had just heard something make a splash in the water. Then they continued doing nothing.

After Valerie and Toadie checked into the hotel room, Valerie smiled at Toadie and began to undress. It wasn't long before both road weary travelers slipped beneath the sheets and....

THE NEXT POST (PART 2 of Toadie in "The Christmas Trip") WILL CONTINUE THIS STORY. MEANWHILE, YOU MAY ENJOY THESE PRECEDING ADVENTURES OF TOADIE BY CLICKING THE FOLLOWING LINKS:

Toadie in "Happy Anniversary"

Toadie in "Road Rage Spectacular"

Toadie in "First Love"

TILL NEXT TIME, "HO HO HO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!"