Dear Santa, I know I told you to get lost years ago when I was a young poor kid and you were either too busy to come see me or scared of the neighbor’s pit bull, whatever chubs, but I will give you one more chance. Since that day I vowed to work hard and never ask any man (especially the fat hairy type who can only come out once a year and pass judgment whilst scarfing cookies and milk) for anything. I pretty much buy it all for me by me thank you very much. Being the kind hearted forgiving type that I am; I will give you one more chance. Please bring me the following for Christmas. Oh and by the way fat man I have been good, very good, the type of good that you don’t want to tell your wife or mother about but that you sit around in a stupor for days remembering good! mm kay? Any of these will suffice and redeem your soul in my eyes: -The magic diet pill (There are magic pills for men whose parts don’t or shouldn’t work, where is mine?) -Shoes and not just any shoes either the ones tha