Dear Santa...
I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at A. Jen's Christmas party. It was Trisha who spiked the punch with too much martini. I can't help it if I drank 38 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like fish.
I thought it was funny when I put Laura's scarf on my head and danced the tinikling on the coffee table while singing `ooh wee'. I didn't mean to break A. Jen's cell phone and don't know why A. Jen would sue me for arson.
I don't remember calling GJ's wife a gigantic cow---even though she looked like one with orange eye shadow and pink lipstick!
And when I threw up on Lena's husband's neck, it was only because I ate too much of that soup.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my jetta through my neighbor's living room. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a smelly giraffe and have me arrested for fraud!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all expensive and clueless. And I'm really not to blame for any of this beautiful stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and irresistibly yours,
Jing (Really a nice girl!)
P.S. It's only 956487654 bucks!
Your turn...