Dear Santa,
A co-worker made me eat a hot pepper at lunch today. And don't give me that bull shit about no one can MAKE me do anything I don't want to. You weren't there; for all you know they could have held me at gun point and force fed me the pepper. Maybe they ground it up into a juice and gave me a Mexican enema, you don't know, you weren't there. I know, I know, you see me when I'm sleeping, but you only KNOW when I'm awake; you don't KNOW what I'm doing while awake. It says so in the damned song, you creeper.
Anyways Santa, I'm writing today to ask for some new underwear and pants because that pepper has me firebombing Dresden. Maybe you could get me an ipad to help with the moisture, I'm told they do everything. Better send Rudolph, assuming that red nose is just a really bad sinus infection; in which case he won't smell a thing. Hey, while your at it, some milk would be nice, I know you have extra. If you really drank all the milk you calm you'd be shitting cheese by now. I just don't buy it.
So, pants, underwear, ipad, milk; got it Santa? Oh yeah, I'm going to need all that right now, it can't wait till Christmas. And none of this chimney crap, just come to the front door, seriously.
Sincerely Yours,
Hobo Dan
P.S. Baby Wipes may not be a bad idea...
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