Santa,
C'mon, this year, maybe we can focus on a couple of important issues right here at home. You know where I'm going with this... We need one of two things, which reminds me - the travel mug and the wooden tie I got last year - good gags, really, nice job.
No, we're on target here for either the hair (which, after all these years, I'm not counting on - It's picking, of course it is, but I don't really understand the problem with the request, it's not much to ask for in the scheme of things is it?), or you might want to choose any one of the following options:
1 - Have my friends quit it with joke wigs and hats with built-in hair. It's not that I can't appreciate the humor, I can, really, we're just up to our eyes in useless crap.
2 - make my fifteen-month old son stop laughing every time my wife says, "and Daddy's hair is...?" It ain't fair.
3 - Let's get me enough muscles to make me forget about my hair. Or money, money will work too.
4 - Make the planet bald.
Those - they're easy requests, with options. I'm not complaining.
Yes, I know, there are tragic circumstances in the world, bigger fish to fry, I understand. I donate what I can, and we're doing the soup kitchens - soon, real soon. Honest. We're also bringing up baby with a sense of proportion, ethical, moral, social breadth so to speak, and yes, he's got hair and he'll use it one day for the greater good.
So, if you could see it through for the time being to just pick, pick a number, any damned number, one through four, and push it through, it would be a real smash, something to remember, I'd owe you, big - We could call Uncle Lou, he can get you anything you need, whatever a Santa can't get, Uncle Lou could help with, just let me know,
Yours in hope,
baldie 1
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