Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Sara's Christmas party. It was Jessica who spiked the punch with too much Diet Pepsi. I can't help it if I drank 6 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like strawberries...
I thought it was funny when I put Brian's sock on my head and danced the Jitterbug on the Sofa while singing `Hell's Bells'. I didn't mean to break Sara's Toaster and don't know why she would sue me for theft.
I don't remember calling Matt's wife, Nikki, a great chicken---even though she looked like one with blue eye shadow and red lipstick!
And when I threw up on Nikki's husband's (Matt's) ear, it was only because I ate too much of that pizza.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my car through my neighbor's kitchen. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a sweet cat and have me arrested for fraud!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all silky and foggy. And I'm really not to blame for any of this soggy stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and easily yours,
Lori (Really a nice girl!)
P.S. It's only 9 bucks!