Dear Santa
This is funny, works like the Mad Libs game.
My letter:
Dear Santa,
I have been a good boy.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Angel's Christmas party. It was Courtney who spiked the punch with too much Long Island Iced Tea. I can't help it if I drank 69 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like cat urine.
I thought it was funny when I put Mario's boxers on my head and danced the Macarena on the futon while singing `Cry Me a River'. I didn't mean to break Angel's cell phone and don't know why Angel would sue me for grand theft auto.
I don't remember calling Rodney's wife a difficult goat---even though she looked like one with orange eye shadow and gray lipstick!
And when I threw up on Patty's husband's eyeball, it was only because I ate too much of that grilled cheese sandwich.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my snowmobile through my neighbor's roof. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a moronic snake and have me arrested for jaywalking!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all humongous and deluded. And I'm really not to blame for any of this bright stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and carefully yours,
Bryan (Really a nice boy!)
P.S. It's only 23 bucks!
[addsig]
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