Letter to Santa
Santa Clause
North Pole, Earth
Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Miah's office party. It was Steve who spiked the punch with too much whiskey. I can't help it if I drank 13 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like vanilla.
I thought it was funny when I put Keira's skirt on my head and danced the limbo on the couch while singing `"Please Come Home for Christmas"'. I didn't mean to break Miah's iPod and don't know why Miah would accuse me of grand theft auto.
I don't remember calling Ruben's wife a slimy cow---even though she looked like one with sapphire eye shadow and burnt umber lipstick!
And when I threw up on Kim's husband's arm, it was only because I ate too much of that spaghetti.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my hot-rod through my neighbor's attic. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a small ferret and have me arrested for burglary!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all sharp and slow. And I'm really not to blame for any of this wise stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and quickly yours,
Sara (Really a nice girl!)
P.S. It's only 7 bucks!
Create your own Santa letter here: http://members.aol.com/frogiearno/dearsanta.htm
North Pole, Earth
Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Miah's office party. It was Steve who spiked the punch with too much whiskey. I can't help it if I drank 13 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like vanilla.
I thought it was funny when I put Keira's skirt on my head and danced the limbo on the couch while singing `"Please Come Home for Christmas"'. I didn't mean to break Miah's iPod and don't know why Miah would accuse me of grand theft auto.
I don't remember calling Ruben's wife a slimy cow---even though she looked like one with sapphire eye shadow and burnt umber lipstick!
And when I threw up on Kim's husband's arm, it was only because I ate too much of that spaghetti.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my hot-rod through my neighbor's attic. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a small ferret and have me arrested for burglary!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all sharp and slow. And I'm really not to blame for any of this wise stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and quickly yours,
Sara (Really a nice girl!)
P.S. It's only 7 bucks!
Create your own Santa letter here: http://members.aol.com/frogiearno/dearsanta.htm
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