What a difference a decade makes. This is my 2010 Christmas Letter to Santa, slightly updated. The pendejo addressed in the letter looks like a saint in comparison to the present occupant. Marty and Ed's tamalada continues for the Nth year in succession, but Barbara and I no longer attend late-evening events, so we're in no position for life to imitate art on our walk home. By the way, click links like this to songs and stuff alluded in the letter to Santa.
Dear Santa:
Seems like only yesterday I wrote you all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, so I could with you merry chrithmath. And here we are today, several implants and numerous fillings later, but my two front teeth are all mine, so thanks for granting me that small wish.
Then there was that bit of trouble, remember? I saw Mommy kissing you underneath the mistletoe that night. How was I to know Daddy was wearing your suit?
But I didn't pout, I didn't shout. I was nice. I'm wise to that list you keep and check twice. Coal pollutes so that’s an empty threat.
Nothing can top that Red Ryder BB Gun from 4th grade. Thank you, I see fine with one eye. It's not your fault. Besides, it got me out of the draft back in '68, so all in all, that was another good Christmas for me. Then, there's that saying about tierra de ciegos el tuerto es rey, but I'm not a monarchist.
What did Grandma do that pissed you off that night, coming home from Marty and Ed’s tamalada?
 |
| Pasadena Local Astonisher 12/25/18 |
But getting run over by reindeer is a hard way to reaffirm one's belief in your existence, Santa. Mejor, just go ask Virginia, que no?
That year I asked for RAM and got Mary's little lamb? It grew up, you'll see, by the way. I meant computer memory, Santa.
So, knowing you have a low tolerance for ambiguity, I am going to keep this short, sweet, and specific, OK?
First, all I want for Christmas is a room somewhere. Please make it far away from the cold night air. And make it a big room, and soundproofed because the joyful and triumphant, they make a lot of noise, and those scruffy guys with the camels, they’re always complaining and whining like cats, “just the worst time of the year for such a journey, the ways deep and the weather sharp, the very dead of winter.”
Second, please bring Bernie some ink. And airtime.
My third wish, dear Santa, is new this year, and I'm not alone, so don't allow high demand to deny my wish because this wish is for everyone else. You don't have to bring me diddly.
So here's the wish: If you can't bring Mitch a moral conscience for Christmas, just swing the swing states to decency in November. Out here in the real USA, we'll GOTV like we did before, Santa.
P.S. Those are gluten-free cookies from a Good Mexican Girl, and the chocolate is made with lactose-free milk. And do enjoy the mutton stew.
No comments:
Post a Comment