Listen Up, Santa

Look here, Santa, you tubby piece of Christmas cheer,

I’m done being Miss Nice Sparkle. I couldn’t help but notice that you COMPLETELY disregarded my last year’s letter. What? You think just because you wrote back and told me no that I was going to just shut up and let it slide? Fuck that shit.

You need to remember your sole purpose- that of bringing hope and PRESENTS to all the good little girls and boys in the world. Yeah, so maybe I’m about 20 years out of the age range of your average clientele, but damn it! I have a child-like imagination, you fucker! And, you know, maybe I wouldn’t necessarily be categorized as “good”, or “well-behaved”, but I’m tired of letting people walk all over me; and nobody was supposed to know about that whole selling booby pictures for money thing. How was I supposed to know that dude was going to sell them on Ebay? Anyhoo, you’re old enough that you could probably just forget about that whole incident. Except I thought it was kinda weird that the username of the purchaser of afore-mentioned photos was S.A. Claus. Ha. Did you realize your initials spell “sac”? I bet you got alotta shit for that in school.

So, here’s the deal. I’m gonna give you one last chance to bring me everything I ask for. I kinda wondered if you were pissed off because I didn’t leave any cookies for you last year, but hey. I have people I’ve actually met who deserve lovingly-made assorted baked goods more than you. It’s time now for you to be made aware of my demands:

1. I’ve been waiting more than patiently for that Mustang I mentioned last year. When you didn’t bring it, I thought- Fine. I’ll go buy it myself. I don’t need any handouts from a bearded fruity geriatric. But when I went to the Ford dealer, I remembered how fuck-traded the salesmen there were, so I just rolled my eyes and walked out. I’m pretty sure they were looking at my ass the whole time. So yeah. If it won’t fit in your sleigh, frickin’ buy a barge and ship it down here.

2. I decided that even though one can never have enough books, I should maybe read some of the thousands I already possess. So call up your dealer in Columbia and hook me up with a steady supply of coke, so I have enough energy to read after my normal 12 hour days at work. I also expect one of those awesome antique wingbacked chairs to sit in.

3. Since you have an army of elves, I don’t think it would be too difficult for you to just give one to me. I always wanted my very own little person to do my bidding. Not to be racist, but it seems normal for an elf to be sub-servient to someone of slightly higher stature. Just to be on the safe side, send one of the runty ones, though. And make sure that little shit is one of the good singers. I expect to be serenaded in an acceptable high-pitched manner.

4. To make it look like I’m not completely selfish, can you send another elf to help out at my Gramma and Gramps’? Gramma won’t admit they kinda need some help with cleaning and other menial tasks, but I think she wouldn’t mind if an elf showed up to help. She’d probably just think he’s a kid and shower him with presents anyway. She probably won’t be cognizant long enough to wonder why he hasn’t grown up in 10 or 12 years.

5. This may seem like it’s not for me, but trust me, it is. You need to bring my Rockstar a Custom Les Paul goldtop for Christmas. He’s been pretty depressed lately because of his job, and if he gets one of those, maybe he’ll buck up and finally write some awesome songs we can record. And just maybe, he’ll come out of his haze long enough to remember he’s dating a horny little bitch who needs to get some more than the average person.

6. Since things have been going swimmingly with my Rockstar’s Daughter, I suppose you can bring her something. She’s been wanting a drumset, but if that’s what you decide to bring her, you better fucking bring one of those electric ones she can bang away on through headphones. And don’t think I’m being mean, because that’s the kind my Rockstar was going to get her anyway. but if you bring it, then he’ll have more money to spend on me. And that’s good for everyone. 😉

7. So, I know the whole baby thing threw you off last year. So instead of bringing me a newborn, you can just get the adoption papers all ready for the cutie at church who’s in foster care. She’s the same age as my Rockstar’s Daughter, (But way sweeter) so I figure they’ll get along great. She also has a baby sister who I’ll take too.

I guess that about sums it up for now. But just remember, if my demands aren’t met to my satisfaction, I’ll let everyone know what a booby-obsessed funky little perv you are.

With all my Love,

Sparklebumps

A Wishlist for Santa

Dear Santa,

I know it’s only the beginning of November, but I figured I had better get my letter to you early so you can get a head start.

I realize there is not much that you can do as far as prescription pills since you aren’t a doctor, so please I would like it if you could just supply me with a year’s worth of brandy, vodka, whiskey, etc. to help me cope with being me. Peach-flavored it preferred.

I would ask for the 2.6 million dollar Victoria’s Secret Fantasy bra, but I’m assuming it’s about 4 cup sizes too small, so anything that you can find in the store that’s a DDD would be great. Also, their smelly lotions are fabulous, but please none that smell of vanilla.

A 1967 Shelby Mustang GT 500 is at the top of my list, but I’ve been asking for that for several years and you seem to keep overlooking it. I realize this is probably just an oversight, so I will ask for it once again. I would like a black one with white racing stripes, since a purple one would NOT be the original color, and I prefer to keep it in it’s original condition.

You know that I am not picky on shoes, so any fabulous, brightly-colored or animal-print, 5inch+ heels would be greatly appreciated. While we are on the subject, a closet big enough to hold them all would be quite beneficial.

I would appreciate a beating for my Rockstar, since he has not yet found it necessary to answer my non-proposal. Please be sure not to leave any marks on him, because I would not want to be accused of abuse, and bruising would marr his perfectly-freckled face.

I would like one or two or five babies, preferably of assorted ethnicity. (because I hate to knock my own race, but white people be having some UGLY babies!) I would like it if they are mostly boys, because girls are just a pain in the ass. Also, a million or so dollars would be great with which to care for them.

Books. This is, I suppose, not really a necessity, since it has become tradition for my brother to gift me with an $85 gift card for Half-Priced Books, but if you have any spare room in your sleigh, you know what to do.

I was going to ask for french fries, but chances are they would be soggy before you get them to me, so I will just ask for an industial-sized fryer, and also one of those big freezers, so I can keep all the bags of Mcdonald’s french fries you will bring me frozen.

I suppose that is all for this year, because I know it will cost you a bundle to keep me satisfied. Remember to thank Mrs. Clause for keeping you fat, because I don’t plan on baking you any cookies this year.

Love, Sparklebumps

P.S. I forgot one thing. I’ve been asking my Rockstar for a stripper pole for the last few years, but he pretends he doesn’t hear me. If you can find the time, they are only $99 at Spencer Gifts.

P.P.S. If you can get Chris Meloni for me, I would squish my boobies against you for 30 seconds. Maybe 45.