The Dateable Dork

Since apparently Santa wasn’t listening to me last year, I’m re-printing my (slightly edited) letter from 2007 in the hopes that I might FINALLY get some of the things on my list.  Are you paying attention, Santa???  Hello???  What can I do to pull your attention away from Mrs. Claus?  : )

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Dear Santa,

Not sure if it’s too late to be asking you for stuff for this Christmas (seeing how it’s only a day or two away), but here are some things to keep in mind for next year… you know, if I’ve been a good girl (ahem) and deserve a little treat or two.  : )

- I never want to have to cook ever again.  Ever.  Again.  I think I did more cooking this weekend than I’ve done in the past few months combined.  Granted, I think my grandmother’s Italian recipes have finally clicked, and I think I successfully whipped up a fantastically delicious (albeit very high-calorie) Christmas feast.  But yeah, enough with the cooking.  Please send me a houseboy wearing nothing but a pair of snowman boxers (do we really need to get into this story again?) to prance around my kitchen and cook for me whenever I please.

- And speaking of houseboys, please make sure that the one you send me is of excellent quality with respect to the following: handsome face, cute haircut, totally built body (a six-pack is an absolute MUST), impressive stamina, and all-knowing sexual prowess.  Oh, and of course, he’ll need a gorgeous cock for me to play with.  Of course.

- Santa, you know me pretty well at this point, right?  We’ve been through a lot of Christmases together, and you’ve always come through with nice shiny presents for me to open and all that good stuff.  Right?  You’ve got my back, right Santa?  Ok, good.  So here’s the deal.  Please listen carefully.  No more stupid boys.  I repeat, no more stupid boys.  I can accept a stray idiot here and there, somehow squeezing through the rigorous filter that you usually use to ensure that I get nice quality boys, but Santa, enough is enough.  What happened this year?  Is the filter clogged, and now you just send me whatever asshole happens to be wandering around the North Pole?  This has got to stop, really.  I’m serious.  No more stupid boys.  No more virgins living with their mother (ran into WAY too many of those already).  No more flaky boys who disappear into thin air.  No more boys who string me along while they’re getting back with their ex-girlfriend.  No more idiots who can’t carry on an intelligent conversation.  No more super-clingy leeches.  No more ghetto gangstas.  Got it?  Ok, good.  I expect some quality this year.  Please, Santa, cut a girl some slack.

- I want cookies.  Lots of cookies.  And please find a way to make them fat-free but still delicious.

- I’d like an apartment in New York that doesn’t require me to sell an organ every time I have to pay the rent.  (I know this is a tough one, but work with me here.)

- Please move my office cubicle so that it is adjacent to the window.  Sunlight is nice.  Fluorescent-light hell is not.  Note that this is a minor request, easy to fulfill… I expect this wish to be granted.  Thanks in advance.  : )

- And finally, if you’re in a REALLY good mood and feel like making me the happiest girl on earth (please please please!), please send me Tobey Maguire.  (Santa, are you ok?  Did you faint or something?)  I mean, seriously, I would never ask you for anything else ever again.  I want the upside-down Spiderman kiss.  I’m sure I could think of other things to do with him upside-down as well.  Oh Santa, just promise me you’ll think about it.  Please?  Please?????

Hugs and kisses,

The Dateable Dork

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Happy Holidays, everyone!  I’ll be away from the computer for the next few days, but I’ll be back later in the week.  Enjoy the holidays, and may you all get exactly what you want from Santa this year.  (And don’t go stealing my houseboy out of Santa’s sleigh – that one’s MINE.)  : )