(no subject)

Dear Santa,

I have been a good boy.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at iceraver's Christmas party. It was foxfyre who spiked the punch with too much Long Island Iced Tea. I can't help it if I drank 37 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like Almonds.

I thought it was funny when I put gamerguy's boxers on my head and danced the Electric Slide on the Green Davenport while singing `"Play that Funky Music, White Boy."'. I didn't mean to break iceraver's Blender and don't know why iceraver would sue me for jaywalking.

I don't remember calling argetlam's wife a slippery chicken---even though she looked like one with amber eye shadow and black lipstick!

And when I threw up on outlawcoon's husband's earlobe, it was only because I ate too much of that donut.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my Ride-Mower through my neighbor's porch. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a unstable ostritch and have me arrested for loitering!

So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all freaky and dusty. And I'm really not to blame for any of this soaking stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and humbly yours,
Kyle (Really a nice boy!)

P.S. It's only 5 bucks!

Want one? Go here.