Dear Santa,

Will you bring me lots of toys for Christmas because I’ve been a good boy this year?

Love,

Dan, age 10

 

Dear Dan,

Good question.  Now let me ask you one.  Do you still suck your thumb?  I know you asked for an Xbox 360 but your mom asked for braces to help fix your bucktoothed, log-splitting face.  When I come to your house on Christmas Eve I’ll make sure I’m vewwy…vewwy quiet…Ha! Ha! Ha!  I mean, uh, Ho! Ho! Ho!

Love, Santa

Dear Santa,

My name is Jimmy and I am 7-years-old.  Please send me a little puppy for Christmas.  Thanks!

 

Dear Jimmy,

Funny that you should ask for a puppy because your mother’s letter arrived yesterday.  She wants a big Golden Retriever with a meaty, sloppy tongue as well as a case of peanut butter.  Divorce hasn’t treated your mother well, huh, Jimmy?

Love, Santa

 

 

Dear Santa,

Are you happily married?

Sincerely,

Debbie, age 8

 

Dear Debbie,

I thought I was happily married until I found out about Mrs. Claus’ affair with Erkle, my senior Elfan assistant.  I can honestly say I was more pissed off than I was hurt.  I had Dasher and Dancer drag Erkle’s sorry ass to the North Pole Guillotine (I just had it shipped in last summer from Pottery Barn…goes great with my mantel) and I said, “You like sleeping with Mrs. Claus?!  You like (CENSORED) my wife?!  Let’s see how you like banging with nothing clanging between your legs, my friend!”  And I dropped the guillotine on his yum sack.  But don’t worry, at the last possible second I had Dasher whip them out and I spared Erkle’s elfhood.  He swore he’d never even look at Mrs. Claus again.  I said, “Ya got that right, ya bastard!” and I had him shipped off to that sweatshop known as Keebler.   Mrs. Claus, on the other hand, is still begging for forgiveness. I told her the only way we’d be even is if I get to have a one night affair with Bjun, my admin assistant.  We’re still arguing over that one.  Needless to say, I think we need some counseling.

Love, Santa