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Bring me a case of Brookly Pennant Ale, a fifth of Booker's bourbon, an mp3 of the Lovedolls "Pearls At Swine" and one of Jerry Dale McFadden's "Country Beats The Hell Out Of Me," a gift certificate to Peter Luger's, a carton of Camel Lights, my old Alfred E. Neuman t-shirt, and several jars of pickled eggs.
Please give the bird flu to all the player's on rainbaby's fantasy football team. I don't care if starts a pandemic that kills millions, I want to beat her ass in the championship, dammit. Is that what Christmas is all about? Me?
I'd like a kickass job, an Ipod, and every damn thing on my Amazon.com Wishlist, Santa. Sure, this is incredibly short-sighted and materialistic of me, but jeez, I put a lot of work into my wishlist while I haven't been working anywhere else. Sheesh.
Please bring me more spa gift certificates for I am now addicted to this overpriced and wholly unnecessary passtime. In addition, I would like a new laptop bag, a new camera, some cute underwear and a couple pairs of jeans.
In return, you may take with you 10 or so lb from my thighs and ass.
So help me, dear Santa, I'm damaged, You can put back my heart in its hole...
I would like a handle of the bird, a case of Lord Chesterfield Ale and a case of Guiness Pub Draught Cans, a fridge full of food, heat in my house and a winning lottery ticket. Also peace on earth and good will to all... (but not at the expense of the winning lottery ticket).
Other than that, I would like to be able to stop walking to work, because my one ankle is sorta jacked now.
In return, you may take with you 10 or so lb from my thighs and ass.
I will prevent Santa from doing that. At gunpoint if I must.
also, santa give me and the Wino a place to consume our alcoholic gifts, prefereably one with an iPod full of my collection jacked into some kickin' speakers.
I would like a kickass job where I can travel to exotic places, and end to this transit strike, lots of drinking money for when I go to Canada at the end of mthe month, about $20 million tax-free dollars and the magical cure for all smoking-related diseases so I can enjoy my smoky treats all I want. I would also like to gain the ability to understand jonmc's weird music references. You can take 10 lbs. of my thighs and belly in exchange. I won't miss it one bit. Really, I won't.
Dear Santa, I'd really like for this whole mess with that bounced check I deposited to work out in the next, oh, hour or so. Or I think I'm going to throw up.
Also Santa, please send the complete works of Wham!, Erasure, Depeche Mode, New Order, and George Michael to jonmc. On an iPod with a file system that can not be erased or overwritten.
Send the Dictators, Amon Duul, The Allman Brothers, Humble Pie, Uncle Dave Macon, Mandrill,Napoleon XIV, Kiss and Wild Man Fischer to weretable on a similar device.
Haha, writing on that paper with the extra big pencil... only people with really good handwriting got to switch to regular-sized pencils. Guess who never got one?
I already have pretty much everything the Allman Brothers have ever done (well mainstream releases, I don't mean tons of boots or whatever) and while I do not like Kiss that well, they don't exactly bother me either. Well some days they do, most of the time they do not. The more intense Kiss fans OTOH...
I actually have a little bit of their stuff, I just think they are an insanely overrated band. The rest I dunno about, having heard very little by most and none by a couple of them. I will one-up my earlier suggestion however and reccomend that Santa send you tons of Kylie Minogue.
Oh, I like this and while you probably will not, I doubt anybody else here would even potentially like it, so you can download it and see. It is Italian prog. I generally am not the biggest prog fan in the world, so I dunno why this appeals to me, but it does.
I would like a condo so that I don't have to scramble to find a new place to live in March. Also: a car, a computer, a digital camera, some sort of mp3 device.
If this list is too materialistic, then I would like: world peace, a cure for AIDS, an end to poverty and homelessness, and someone rich to pay all my mom's bills.
I want flannel pyjamas, a good mattress, and a sexy someone to remove the former and snuggle in the latter.
I also would like paint, underwear, an iPod, a car, those Sarto pumps, a failsafe hangover cure, more self-control, and a copy of Perdido St. Station. Also, could I not be allergic to bees anymore?
If you will just get rid of this hangover, Santa, I promise to be good forevermore and never, ever, ever again break out the whiskey in the middle of an already drunken Monopoly game. Also, I will be your love slave.
Can I have an end to world poverty, my credit card bills paid off, good jobs for my friends lipstickthespian and croctommy, a regular ongoing kinky boyfriend, time to read all the unread books on my shelf, and time to listen to all the unlistened to mp3s I downloaded from blogs and Metachat, the Super Furry Animals playing in my livingroom, and the Harvey Girls touring on the west coast during a week when I'm free to follow them.
Good grades next term please, and my professors to take enough pity on me to write rec letters, and money so I can live long enough to get them. And 36" #8 Addi Turbo needles.
I don't know if I deserve one or not, but Santa probably does. I'll make sure its sushi bowl is always full and give it its very own bed and plenty of exercise and take it to visit other Specklets.
That sounds like a pretty good plan (even though you haven't mentioned anything about the little sweaters it likes to wear when it gets cold out).
But are you sure you wouldn't get tired of it after a few weeks? Remember the duckling the Easter Bunny brought you? The one that got eaten by the neighbor's cat?
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photo by Kronos_to_Earth
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