(no subject)
Friday, December 17, 2004
A Letter to Santy Claus
Suddenly Danny is 11 years old
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Dear Santa, How's it going, big guy? It's me, you know...Danny. Look, I know we haven't been on good terms for the past 25 odd years on account of me being jewish and not believing in you but I can look past all that, can't you? Here's the deal. I know your schedule is probably going to be extremely busy this upcoming Christmas, what with all the rich folk's houses you have to pay a visit to but I was hoping that maybe, just maybe you'd find it in that mystical heart of yours to pay a visit to the loneliest half-jew in the world...me. I've never asked for anything from you before and I promise, I'll never ask again. I was just hoping that this year you could grant my wishes. I swear, I've been a good boy in '04. I haven't slapped any prostitutes around NOR did I burn down any black churches this year. My list is quite short really, and considering your alleged powers, none of my wishes would be terribly difficult for you to make manifest. Take note fat man, I don't want any mix ups.
1: A kajillion dollars. If that's not possible, I'll settle for a zillion. And no checks either. Kris, I want that shit in small, unmarked bills or your cunt of wife here is gonna get it!
2: I want "X to the Z" Xzibit to personally come down to my house here in South Carolina and pimp my ride. Now it's a 1996 Ford Escort, so he's got his work cut out for him and I'll probably just sell the damned thing the moment I get it into my greedy little hands, but DAMN IT, Everybody else and their mother is rolling around on dubs and shit EXCEPT FOR ME! And I don't want not fruity assed theme either, like a golf ball cleaner in the trunk or five X-Boxes lined up on the roof! I just want it all pimp. Hook it up with a retractable glass bong that slides up out of the floorboards and I promise I'll be extra good in 2005.
3: A deepthroat blowjob from Lindsay Lohan while Hillary Duff and the mom from "That 70's Show" take turns giving me a "Rusty Trombone". And not one of those quick two licks and she's done blowjobs, I want a throat gurgling, vomit inducing blowjob that even Max Hardcore would be proud of.
4: A cure for cancer, AIDS, and heart disease all rolled into one. But only let ME hold onto it. I don't want to share.
5: Booze. Plenty of it.
6: I want an end to all wars and the differences between mankind and his fellow brethren. And if that's not possible, then just nuke everybody else except for us, the good guys.
7. A hot stripper girlfriend who actually thinks it's SEXY that I sit around all day smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto.
8: Last, but not least...did I mention booze?
With that all said, I certainly hope that this christmas list gets to you safely at the North Pole. I know it must be difficult, what with the sitting on your fat ass all year long until the 23rd of December and forcing innocent little elves to do your slave labor, but I know deep down in this shriveled, black heart of mine that you'll make my wishes come true this holiday season. I'll leave out a plate of freshly baked hemp cookies for you, Santy...enjoy. Enclosed with this letter is a piece of your wife's ear. I'm not fucking kidding about that kajillion dollars, fat man.
Happy Kwanzaa,
Danny
A Letter to Santy Claus
Suddenly Danny is 11 years old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Santa, How's it going, big guy? It's me, you know...Danny. Look, I know we haven't been on good terms for the past 25 odd years on account of me being jewish and not believing in you but I can look past all that, can't you? Here's the deal. I know your schedule is probably going to be extremely busy this upcoming Christmas, what with all the rich folk's houses you have to pay a visit to but I was hoping that maybe, just maybe you'd find it in that mystical heart of yours to pay a visit to the loneliest half-jew in the world...me. I've never asked for anything from you before and I promise, I'll never ask again. I was just hoping that this year you could grant my wishes. I swear, I've been a good boy in '04. I haven't slapped any prostitutes around NOR did I burn down any black churches this year. My list is quite short really, and considering your alleged powers, none of my wishes would be terribly difficult for you to make manifest. Take note fat man, I don't want any mix ups.
1: A kajillion dollars. If that's not possible, I'll settle for a zillion. And no checks either. Kris, I want that shit in small, unmarked bills or your cunt of wife here is gonna get it!
2: I want "X to the Z" Xzibit to personally come down to my house here in South Carolina and pimp my ride. Now it's a 1996 Ford Escort, so he's got his work cut out for him and I'll probably just sell the damned thing the moment I get it into my greedy little hands, but DAMN IT, Everybody else and their mother is rolling around on dubs and shit EXCEPT FOR ME! And I don't want not fruity assed theme either, like a golf ball cleaner in the trunk or five X-Boxes lined up on the roof! I just want it all pimp. Hook it up with a retractable glass bong that slides up out of the floorboards and I promise I'll be extra good in 2005.
3: A deepthroat blowjob from Lindsay Lohan while Hillary Duff and the mom from "That 70's Show" take turns giving me a "Rusty Trombone". And not one of those quick two licks and she's done blowjobs, I want a throat gurgling, vomit inducing blowjob that even Max Hardcore would be proud of.
4: A cure for cancer, AIDS, and heart disease all rolled into one. But only let ME hold onto it. I don't want to share.
5: Booze. Plenty of it.
6: I want an end to all wars and the differences between mankind and his fellow brethren. And if that's not possible, then just nuke everybody else except for us, the good guys.
7. A hot stripper girlfriend who actually thinks it's SEXY that I sit around all day smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto.
8: Last, but not least...did I mention booze?
With that all said, I certainly hope that this christmas list gets to you safely at the North Pole. I know it must be difficult, what with the sitting on your fat ass all year long until the 23rd of December and forcing innocent little elves to do your slave labor, but I know deep down in this shriveled, black heart of mine that you'll make my wishes come true this holiday season. I'll leave out a plate of freshly baked hemp cookies for you, Santy...enjoy. Enclosed with this letter is a piece of your wife's ear. I'm not fucking kidding about that kajillion dollars, fat man.
Happy Kwanzaa,
Danny