Hey Santa! Yeah you, ya big stink. What the nark is wrong with you?? You think that just because you’re your own boss and don’t take no orders from nobody that you can stomp on my Christmas wishes, and leave me a freakin’ pile of junk?
Did you even read the letter I sent you? What about my tweets, facebook messages, or emails? Did you not see the comments I left on your blog? Surely you must have gotten at least one of the numerous text messages or missed phone calls I gave you. I even SKYPED with Mrs. Claus and told her exactly what I wanted and still you come and dump wrapped up garbage beneath our evergreen.
You know what? You suck. I’m not sure if you’re incompetent, lazy, or mentally impaired, but you certainly are not fit for my future children to worship.
Look. My request was not unreasonable: The only thing I wanted was the very same 16 oz. jar of Teddie Crunchy Old Fashioned All Natural Peanut Butter that was taken from me as I was going through security at the Boston Logan International Airport on Wednesday, December 21 at approximately 11:15 am, and the security team that had confiscated it after briefly arguing with me to be punished by you stealing all their toilet paper. But you ruined everything by being awful.
Even if my request had been over the top, which it wasn’t, I still thought the pieces of trash I found under my tree were completely uncalled for. What kind of mean-spirited old crank leaves Dunkaroo wrappers and beef jerky bags with bows on top of them? And as for the box of Ritz s’mores, well I thought there was actually something in there until I opened it and you had replaced my favorite road trip treat with dog food. You’re just a bad guy. I hope the years of tax evasion finally catch up to you and you’re sent to a minimum security federal prison where you meet a whole new crop of lap sitters.
Wishing you a nasty case of shingles,