Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Lucy's Christmas party. It was Susan who spiked the punch with too much Martini. I can't help it if I drank 9 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like musk.

I thought it was funny when I put Bab's bra on my head and danced the salsa on the couch while singing `I'm already there'. I didn't mean to break Lucy's cell phone and don't know why Lucy would sue me for rape.

I don't remember calling Ruben's wife a super cow---even though she looked like one with green eye shadow and brown lipstick!

And when I threw up on Caitlin's husband's foot, it was only because I ate too much of that Ben & Jerry's.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my BMW through my neighbor's attic. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a wet lion and have me arrested for hot wiring!

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

Sincerely and sleepily yours,
Bitter Genius (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 6 bucks!

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