Dear Santa,
First off, Santa, I want to promise you that things are going to go much smoother next year. Along the same note, I will be a much better, more behaved, less heinous and horny individual next year, I promise.
Moving right along, Kris, let's get down to business. You're in the business of giving. I'm in the business of receiving and in some cases taking, but I want to be a good boy over the holiday season and not make anyone cry; thus, I will be mature and polite. The following items are what I truly desire from the bottom of my heart and I feel I most certainly deserve them.
First and foremost, finals are a week away. Santa, this one is a bit untraditional, but I need a month's worth of Adderall ASAP. I'm not kidding. Get it for me. I don't care what you have to do; beg for it, steal it, work the corner, make it, whatever. Just get me the brain candy. Let me assure you that my brain, GPA, profs, father and future employers will thank you.
Next, I need a new iPod. Santa, you brought me a 20-gig iPod more than a year ago and it's, like, way out of style and definitely not trendy. Having one of the huge 20-GB is like the equivalent to having a Zack Morris phone. Not cool. So Santa, I need a Nano. Actually, better make it two, in case one just isn't enough for all my music.
Thanks, Santa, but don't forget, only the color white. The others colors - not gonna lie - freak me out.
I could really go for a Miami RedHawks hockey jersey too. Again, not gonna lie, but I would never have fathomed my RedHawks to reach the No. 2 spot in the USA Today hockey poll. Get me a jersey. I will wear it only to Goggin and of course the pregame beforehand because that is where the war is won - not on the ice but behind the glass where thousands of intoxicated, insane students and fans cheer for their beloved Red and White.
The other day, I was also thinking how convenient it would be to have a personal assistant to answer my beck and call. I would think it would be a cross between Bruce Wayne's Alfred and Vincent Chase's Turtle - wait, that's just an old stoner with a corny British accent that can't speak correctly - I refuse to have Ozzy or Keith Richards for that matter being my assistant.
But having a personal slave would be awesome. Oh yes, slave isn't PC, that whole Amistad thing, so we'll go with "indentured servant." Cool. He'll be amazing. Dropped my fork; he's already got another waiting. My food could possibly be poisoned or bad; he's taste-testing. I have to drive late at night; that man is driving my girlie-ass, yellow Sunfire while I snooze in the back, unseen. Oh, and taking a sh*t and wiping my own ass; a distant memory, fallen back into the memory of me in diapers and a time when I was once wholesome and innocent. So please, a personal assistant/slave/indentured servant would be clutch.
Santa, I don't know really what your connections are or who all you're networked with but could you please get me a new president and a new vice president, aka the grand puppet master. I don't care how you do it; no questions asked. But seriously, we need someone new. I want my friends in Iraq, Afghanistan and all the others who are illegally in other lands to be home with their families this Christmas.
Santa, I know I'm not alone on this one. In fact, I guarantee that men, women and children in both cities will be asking for this one - Bengals vs. Bears in the Super Bowl. No joke, if this happens, I will shave my head and streak at Ford Field. But then there is the question of "WHO DEY?"
DA BEARS!
Finally Santa, I want you to get me a job. I sent out a bajillion internship applications, resumes, essays and all that crap. Get me in somewhere! I know I was bad in that most of it was lies, but who's going to figure it out until its too late? Exactly. Get me in.
Thank you, Santa. I look forward to your visit and of course, I will leave the milk and cookies in the living room. Merry Christmas!
P.S.: The following three items are things the entire world, not just me, needs to get for Christmas:
1. World peace
2. President Bush needs to care about black people
3. The dismantling, selling and execution of George Steinbrenner and the New York Yankees
If you can get these three things to fly, you and Jesus will be on similar levels of awesomeness … well, not really, but it would be really sweet.







