Dear Santa,
I’m calling bullshit on your annual delivery of underwear and pyjamas, enough is enough. You need to quit it with your small-time stocking stuffers and take this shit big picture. Think of it as making up for the other 364 days of the year where all you do is sit on your gingerbread and candy cane throne and judge the citizens’ of the world. And just who are you calling a ho? For shame, Santa. Level with me a minute and hear me out, I just have a few simple requests.
Please can I have for Christmas:
- To be BFF’s with Tina Fey. We’ll braid each other’s hair, tell each other secrets and cry about boys together. On Wednesday we’ll wear pink. And we would NEVER write about each other in the Burn book.
- A basic understanding of physics. Including, but not limited to, how it’s possible that planes can fly in the air… srsly. Continue reading