Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight
Dear Santa,
If you wanted to put these under the tree this year, I can’t say I’d be opposed. Really. I mean, they’re cute, and shiny, and I really, really like them.
Of course, the tree in my apartment is only about a foot tall, so perhaps quite literally you could put them under the tree. In fact, just so we’re clear, the teeny tree (note: if this letter was to Ms. Pants I would now refer to the tree as a treeny) is on my bar. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.
Ok, ok, so I know there was that one time that I laughed when that woman tripped this year. Okay, FINE! It was probably closer to 100 times that I laughed when people tripped, fell down, spilled stuff, you get the picture. So maybe I wasn’t as good as I should have been. You can still give me pretty new shoes instead of a lump of coal, right?
HaHA! Joke’s on you, fatman! I don’t have a stocking for you to put coal in! Oh goodness. So sorry. My evil twin just knocked me over and took control of the keyboard for a minute. Before she tries that move again, I guess I better end this letter.
So. In conclusion. Me? Not as good as I should have been, but maybe we can consider the shoes a bribe to do better next year. Right? Shoes? Pretty. Shiny. Good-inducing. Evil twin? Evil.
Enjoy an extra cookie on me, big boy,
MissDirected
