When the higher ups at D&D asked me to submit my letter to Santa, it was on me to go retrieve it from him as I do not recall what I wrote.
I sauntered on down to the local mall and bullied my way to the front of the Santa line via all manner of elbows and cuss words. After some intense enhanced interrogation, he finally gave it up.
I carefully uncrumpled and attempted to decipher the random lines on the paper (Seriously. Random lines. In Crayon. On manilla paper... what was I drinking!?) and this is what I think it said:
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Dear Boo -
In my yearly missive to you, I have decided not to ask anything for myself. I have everything a man of 33 can ask for. A deserted building to squat in, a stolen bicycle to haul my ass around, and a Commodore 64 to bang out random thoughts on.
No, this year, I have decided to use my three wishes on you, kind sir. Maybe next year if I find myself still working for D&D for $1.20 an hour, you can grant my wish of a seedy death curled up behind the dumpster at the Big Lots with that male stripper I left bound and degraded last week (I should really go check on him...) with a needle of bleach in my arm.
I have done a lot of thinking about your personal and working situations and I hope you don't mind me wishing better for you. In doing so, I am going to be making assumptions about your life and judging you oh so hard. Please don't take this the wrong way.
Your Living Situation
It's cold where you are. So cold, in fact, that the natural weight that women put on in the winter happens year round, so there is no "swimsuit season" to work towards. This has adverse affects on both you and your wife. Time to dump her, the climate, and/or both.Nobody is happy in cold climates. Look at the folks in North Dakota. There is not happiness there, and when is the last time you saw a hot chick from the Dakotas? It is depressing, really.
Your Work Situation
You surround yourself with elves who, while might be the right height, are never portrayed as particularly attractive.
You may not really be able to improve your employee situation and that is OK. I understand that midgets have mystical powers that can’t be found in normal portioned humans and these powers are used to make wooden trains and whistles and such. They may not fall under the child labor laws of our land, but you have got to distance in case someone finds it questionable, or before you catch something from them.But Santa, I want you to know that I have the answer and that these are my wishes for you. Relocate and surround yourself with appropriate staff to make your life easier. I mean, you have been around forever and a change of scenery might do you good.
Wish #1: Get yourself an executive office in the tropics:
Wish #2: Hire a capable onsite office manager to make sure shit gets done back at the factory:
Wish #3: Get yourself a proper elf assistant to serve as your companion. Utilize that “Naughty/Nice List” that you have to find one that is a little of both, you know?
I hope I have helped you think about some things, here. I will be back next year with my normal list of selfish wants of cash, hot cars, and fast women. If you decide NOT to take my advice, however, consider the picture above as my complete Christmas List.
Yours in Claus,
The Pickled Mick
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