That's right ladies and gents! The red man is writing back to all the crap letter's y'all have sent him.. Is he happy? Mad? Laughing his mistletoe off? Not sure. Let's find out.
Now this story comes to us by little Rianna. *reads*
Dear Santa Clause,
I think that I have been very bad this year. Do you want to know some of the things I did? O.K. I'll tell you anyway. First of all, I have been planning to dominate the world. I've done other bad things also. That is the worst. Now, I will name some things that you will get me (or else.) I want a giant machine gun to blow up the world with. I want a big evil Barbie doll. I want my own elf. I don't get these then I will be extremely mad. So mad that I will blow up the world anyway. So Santa Clause the world is doomed no matter what.
Hugs and Kisses,
Rianna
Santa replies:
Dear Rianna,
I think it's time to see your doctor about taking you off the Ritalin.
Calmly yours,
Dr. Santa
Now here's a story from out little Paige, let's read shall we? *puts glasses on* Ahem:
Dear Santa,
Remember when I asked you for a microscope-as I recall I was pretty specific about the model and you sent me what amounted to a glorified magnifying glass, thus rendering the cool slides my sister bought me useless? No? Well, I DO. Sometimes even though I suspected you didn't exist, I clung to the belief that you would come through for me, just once. I spent the better part of the year being quite "nice." When Kim Kempke called me names on the playground and threw dirt at me at recess, I just said, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me." You and I both know what a brat that kid was, but I took it because I knew you were watching.
When I got in trouble for taking the last Creamsicle, even though my SISTER had eaten it, I didn't rat her out because there is a pretty fine line when it comes to sticking up for yourself or being a snitch and yet there I was on Christmas morning trying to be gracious when I opened that sorry excuse for a microscope. My sister and brother both gave me the same look they reserve for our cousin. You know, the one my Dad calls "simple." I was heartbroken. What in heaven's name were you thinking? Was it a last minute gesture? I realize my last name is at the end of the alphabet, but I thought a kid would get some credit for taking it on the chin a couple of times during the year without complaint.
There were many times when I wanted to be naughty, but the thought of losing out because I gave Danny Arico a charley horse was more than I could bear.
I weighed my options and realized that nothing would get in my way when it comes to that microscope. Except Santa Claus himself, apparently.
Well, let mme be the first to say that while you have come through on years past, I am no longer your biggest supporter.
The word is out. People know you are a fair weather friend and you have been marked lousy. Once that happens there is no way you can get back on my good side. Not even if you brought me, say...a brand new bike. It's too late, Santa.
It's not that I don't believe in you, it's that I don't have much fath in your "powers."
So from now on the gloves are off. Naughty?
You got it buddy.
Let's see what you do with that.
Your friend,
Paige Warwick
a dissatisfied customer
P.S.And Kim Kempke? SHE got the Barbie Dream House AND Corvette. Justice? I think not.
Santa replies:
Dear Paige,
When did you turn into such a little bitch?
You friend,
Santa
Here's one from Mikey:
Dear Santa,
Santa why you ain't get me little laptop. That is so kind of sinning.
Mikey
Santa says:
Dear Mikey,
Why you ain't writing in a language I can understand? Master English and you'll not only get a laptop, but you'll also avoid a lifetime association with the penal system.
Your homey,
Fat Santa
Oh tsk tsk Adele:
Dear Santa,
I'm sorry. I can explain.
-Your BIGGEST fan,
Adele, third grade
LOL Santa:
Dear Adele,
Yes. I know you can. However, you might as well save your breathe because I'm not buying it. And just so you know, it wasn't the fact that you stole the little baby Jesus figure from the nativity scene in front of your church and replaced it with a two-liter bottle of Sprite. I actually thought that was pretty funny. And it wasn't even the prank with your father's glue gun and your mother's diaphragm. What finished thing's off as far as you and I are concerned was the incident you caused when you told the little Pakistani girl that when I come down the chimney of a house and find it occupied with non-Christians, I systematically execute everyone I find living there. Really now. What do you think it costs me in public relations dollars to neutralize that kind of slander? A lifetime of presents for my BIGGEST fan doesn't even come close to covering it... But it's a start.
Dare to Dream!
Santa
Remember to be specific:
Dear Santa,
hello I am 9 and I would like 3 things
#1. A book set, #2. new arts and crafts, and #3. a couple webkinz.
How does your sled work? Did you know that Christmas is my favorite holiday!
Love,
Liv 9
Oh Santa, ya meanie:
Dear Liv,
I'll be curious to hear if Christmas is still your favorite holiday after this year. As requested, I'll being you the following:
#1 The Internal Revenue Service 1991 Tax Code (all eighteen volumes in the set!)
#2 The Junior Jackson Pollack Paint-By-Number Kit
#3 The carcasses of half a dozen insects I've carefully extracted from the spider web that hangs in the corner of my office.
At nine you should be able to phrase your requests more precisely.
Ask and ye shall receive!
Santa
*continues reading* Oh Lucas, you cutie you:
Dear Santa Claus,
In the song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" Do you really kiss my mom? And thanks for everything last year. This year I really don't care about the presents I get. I care about the presents I give. By the way have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
From,
Lucas, 8 and a qrter.
Aww, Santa:
Dear Lucas,
I'm often asked this question, to which I reply: If only I had the time!
You'll get that in about ten years.
In the meantime, it's letters like yours that make me grateful that I can see within your heart. I often get letters from calculating little shits who feed me lines like "I only care about the presents I give" like so many beauty pageant contestants, and if I wasn't able to see the truth it would leave in a difficult position. But I can see your sentiments are genuine, and it does warm my heart. I'll be bringing you a Game Cube and Wii this year, and I hope you have a ball with them.
And if I were to kiss anybody's mommy, it would be yours.
Rrrawr!
Santa
Cookies!:
Hi Santa,
My sister is making me leave out oatmeal cookies for you even though they are gross.You probably like chocolate chip cookies better. I'll try to put some of them on the plate too. Please don't put me on the bad list, just my sister.
Looking out for you,
Kevyn
LOLOL *reads with nose close to book*:
Dear Kevyn,
Your absolutely correct. Oatmeal cookies are disgusting. The only thing worse are oatmeal cookies with raisins. At first glance, they look like oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips, and you think to yourself, well, at least these oatmeal cookies have chocolate chips. The you pick one up and take a bite only to realize they're really RAISINS! It's a joke of the cruelest kind. Hitler LOVED oatmeal cookies with raisins.
Rest assured that you will not be punished for this travesty. You sister, however, shall pay.
Disgustedly yours,
Santa
*keeps reading*:
Dear Santa,
How come you so fat?
Love,
Ashton, aged 8
BAHAHA Santa!!:
Dear Ashton,
How come you so rude? Seriously, haven't your parents any manners? Or grammar?
If your really must know, I'm fat because I love bread, potatoes, pasta and booze. Those four things have been torture when it comes to maintaining a svelte figure. Now, some people may say I'm an incredible hypocrite for the way I chastise other for letting themselves grow fat while doing nothing to maintain my own weight. It's a fair critique, but it's really a matter of apples and oranges (neither of which I like eating). You see, I'm immortal. I can eat all the unhealthy shit I want and it's not going to kill me. The same can't be said for any of the fat kids who write to me. So this is really a case of, "do as i say, not as I do." I'm only thinking of them as I berate them and ridicule them, all the while knocking back a bottle of Dewar's.
Life ain't fair,
Santa
Last one folks~:
Dear Santa Claus,
All I want for Christmas is a new bike.I hope the elves at the North Pole know how to make a bike for me. I want it to be blue. Blue is my favorite color. What is your favorite color? I think it is red because that is the color of your suit!
Shannon Riley Murphy says that your are just pretend, but she is always trying to trick me. I won't let it work this time. Please write back so that I can show her you are real. I believe in you Santa. If there is a bike under the tree on Christmas Day then you really must be real.
I don't need a helmet for the bike.
Your friend,
Masato
>.< Santa!:
Dear Masato,
Don't you know that true devotion and belief don't require any physical proof to back them up? Of course that's the impossible-to-prove bullshit that leads people to blow themselves up for imaginary virgins and to believe that books written by sadistic desert nomads are the unchallengeable word of God.
In other words, good for you, Masato! If there's any advice I can give you it would be don't believe the claptrap that people like Shannon Riley Murphy will try to force-feed you throughout your entire life. Make 'em provide the proof. Of course, you can take that to an extreme. Such as a refusal to believe in the importance of oh,... say, safety helmets. But don't worry. Their importance will be made abundantly clear to you about seven weeks after you receive your beautiful new blue bike.
Enjoy it while you can,
Santa
((There's a whole book!! And I can't pick all the ones I want to put on here cause that would just be the entire book. ^.^))
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by Kittynips Mon 09 Jun 2014, 4:05 am
Subject: Santa responds!?! WTF!!! 
