Some letters to Santa and the replies received
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud boy all Yeer yer Frend, BiLLy
Nice spelling. You’re on your way to a career in lawn care. How about I send you a friggin’ book so you can learn to read and write? I’m giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE can spell!
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody! Love, Sarah
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn’t they?
I don’t know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I’d like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do? Love,
Look, your dad’s banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you think he’s gonna give that up to come back to your frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It’s time to give up that dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle of scotch.
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?
Your friend, Thomas
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you wanted to know.
Do you see us when we’re sleeping, do you really know when we’re awake, like in the song?
Are you really that gullible or are you just a blonde? Good luck in whatever you do. I’m skipping your house.
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE – PLEASE could I have one?
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap doesn’t work with me. You’re getting a sweater again. Santa
We don’t have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our home?
First, stop calling yourself “Marky”, that’s why you’re getting your ass whipped at school. Second, you don’t live in a house, you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like the boogeyman does, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams, Santa
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