I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Dear Jenny,
Thank you for your letter last week. It arrived without an envelope, and addressee, or even a single correctly spelled word. But I got it. The post office always sends the “looney letters” to me. You might even call me the Head Looney! Ha, just joking; I’m sure there are crazier people than me. If so, I should hire them, because you don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it sure helps! Ha!
By the way, have you noticed the sky lately? It just seems, I don’t know, closer than it used to. Or maybe I’m just getting taller, but I don’t think so, because my coat still fits. I think it’s scientists, harnessing the powers of the ozone to control us. Watch out for them.
Don't worry, I’ll be okay. I have enough firepower here at the pole to take out everyone in this hemisphere. I’m just itching for them to try something.
Gotta go, I think I hear them at the door now.
Ho ho ho,
Santa
Showing posts with label santa letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label santa letters. Show all posts
12/21/2011
12/20/2011
The Santa Letters: Henry and Simon
I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Dear Henry,
Thank you for your letter. The one last week. The one you sent. Last week. I got it. It.
I’m reading it now. I’ve also got a scottle of botch in front in front of me. I don’t know which one I enjoy more, although the scotch does go down smoothlyer.
Hic,
Satan
Santana
Santa
To the Parents of Simon,
Thank you for your (and I mean your, not Simon’s, letter of last week):
“Simon would like a stuffed bear, an electric train, and a savings bond worth $100.”
Isn’t it about time you let Simon make his own way in the world? Let him fight his own battles, win his own victories, die in his own defeats. He’s been too long tied down by the apron strings and should be cast off to make his own path. Like Oedipus, let him find his way and return triumphant one day to kill his father and … okay you don’t have to let it get that far. But you know what I mean.
Let him write his own letters, ask for his own toys for Christmas. He’s two, for Christ’s sake. Leave him alone.
Ho,
Santa
- Chet
Dear Henry,
Thank you for your letter. The one last week. The one you sent. Last week. I got it. It.
I’m reading it now. I’ve also got a scottle of botch in front in front of me. I don’t know which one I enjoy more, although the scotch does go down smoothlyer.
Hic,
Santa
To the Parents of Simon,
Thank you for your (and I mean your, not Simon’s, letter of last week):
“Simon would like a stuffed bear, an electric train, and a savings bond worth $100.”
Isn’t it about time you let Simon make his own way in the world? Let him fight his own battles, win his own victories, die in his own defeats. He’s been too long tied down by the apron strings and should be cast off to make his own path. Like Oedipus, let him find his way and return triumphant one day to kill his father and … okay you don’t have to let it get that far. But you know what I mean.
Let him write his own letters, ask for his own toys for Christmas. He’s two, for Christ’s sake. Leave him alone.
Ho,
Santa
12/19/2011
The Santa Letters: Sheila
I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Sheila,
I’m not sure who you think you’re dealing with, but I am not a “Customer Service Department”, nor are we an “Organization.” And what’s more, you cannot “exchange or return for a refund” anything that I gave you. Gave. That’s the key word here. Gave. I didn’t sell you anything, and I’m not about to give you anything in exchange for it. It was a gift. If you don’t like it, don’t use it. Better yet, give it to someone else with better taste. Or wait - how about if you take it and smash your hand with it repeatedly until it can never again write such thoughtless and bureaucratic drivel.
Don’t look for me this year, sister. I won’t be coming to your town. You are now officially on my naughty list.
Santa
- Chet
Sheila,
I’m not sure who you think you’re dealing with, but I am not a “Customer Service Department”, nor are we an “Organization.” And what’s more, you cannot “exchange or return for a refund” anything that I gave you. Gave. That’s the key word here. Gave. I didn’t sell you anything, and I’m not about to give you anything in exchange for it. It was a gift. If you don’t like it, don’t use it. Better yet, give it to someone else with better taste. Or wait - how about if you take it and smash your hand with it repeatedly until it can never again write such thoughtless and bureaucratic drivel.
Don’t look for me this year, sister. I won’t be coming to your town. You are now officially on my naughty list.
Santa
12/15/2011
The Santa Letters: Suzie
I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Dear Suzie,
Thanks for your letter last week. It meant so much to me to hear what you want me to give you.
Meanwhile, the reindeer are on strike again, as usual. They’re just fine all year long: no responsibilities, just out playing their reindeer games day in, day out. Then when we get into the season, they know they’ve got me over a barrel and they go for it: higher wages, more food, bigger troughs, early stud plans, higher 401k matching: the works.
They’ll come around. It usually just takes some Christmas charm and good old-fashioned threats to make them see the reason for the season. Occasionally I have to follow through on my threats, but I haven't had to do that since Schlitzen in '78.
And Mrs. Claus, well, she’s on strike too, I guess you could say.
Ho ho ho,
Santa
- Chet
Dear Suzie,
Thanks for your letter last week. It meant so much to me to hear what you want me to give you.
Meanwhile, the reindeer are on strike again, as usual. They’re just fine all year long: no responsibilities, just out playing their reindeer games day in, day out. Then when we get into the season, they know they’ve got me over a barrel and they go for it: higher wages, more food, bigger troughs, early stud plans, higher 401k matching: the works.
They’ll come around. It usually just takes some Christmas charm and good old-fashioned threats to make them see the reason for the season. Occasionally I have to follow through on my threats, but I haven't had to do that since Schlitzen in '78.
And Mrs. Claus, well, she’s on strike too, I guess you could say.
Ho ho ho,
Santa
12/14/2011
The Santa Letters: Timmy
I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Dear Timmy,
Thank you so much for your letter dated “Novmenbr 32th”.
First of all, I’d like to say: ask your Mom for a little help with the spelling next time. I had a hard time getting through your letter trying to figure out what in the Hell you were trying to say. And I’ve seen a lot of bad spellers over the years, believe me.But since it was mostly just a list of the crap you want for Christmas, I struggled through it alright.
In the future, you probably want to sanity-check (or as my Head Elf likes to say, “Santy-check”, the miserable punning bastard) the contents with someone familiar with our language. For example, I assume you wanted “a horse” and not “whores”. It’s not an unusual Christmas wish, but I don’t get that request much from four year olds.
In any case, I can’t fit either option on my sleigh, much less down your chimney. How about a nice football instead?
Ho ho ho,
Santa.
- Chet
Dear Timmy,
Thank you so much for your letter dated “Novmenbr 32th”.
First of all, I’d like to say: ask your Mom for a little help with the spelling next time. I had a hard time getting through your letter trying to figure out what in the Hell you were trying to say. And I’ve seen a lot of bad spellers over the years, believe me.But since it was mostly just a list of the crap you want for Christmas, I struggled through it alright.
In the future, you probably want to sanity-check (or as my Head Elf likes to say, “Santy-check”, the miserable punning bastard) the contents with someone familiar with our language. For example, I assume you wanted “a horse” and not “whores”. It’s not an unusual Christmas wish, but I don’t get that request much from four year olds.
In any case, I can’t fit either option on my sleigh, much less down your chimney. How about a nice football instead?
Ho ho ho,
Santa.
12/13/2011
The Santa Letters: Johnny
I've been fortunate enough to receive some correspondence from Santa this year, letters that he's written to some of the many children around the world who wrote to him. I'll post some of the more thoughtful pieces to spread the warmth and happiness of Santa throughout this holiday season.
- Chet
Dear Johnny,
Thanks for your recent letter in which you so thoughtfully just listed everything you wanted without asking anything about me. I’m sure you meant to, but just didn’t get to it, right? Right.
Things here at the North Pole are, well, they’re cold and miserable. Not like it’s any surprise to anyone; we knew what we were getting into when we moved here. But I never get used to it. It’s just so damn cold this time of year. It’s colder than a freezer on the Mars rover. For all they’re talking about global warming, you think it’d make it nicer up here, but not as far as I can tell. Maybe the glaciers are melting, but I’m not.
I guess we just lied to ourselves when we settled here. For one thing, we went house shopping in the summertime, which is always a mistake. Everything looks better on a summer’s day. What you really want to do is see a place at it’s worst. If you could tour a house during a blizzard in mid-winter, or during a hurricane evacuation, then you’d really know the downsides. But no, we saw something that looked almost nice, and convinced ourselves that it’d be fine. And now we’re stuck, so far underwater on the mortgage that we couldn't dig ourselves out with all the snow shovels I make every year.
And at first we loved the isolation. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand it was all the people around in our old neighborhood. Always stopping by, putting in a good word for themselves, trying to see what List they were on, asking what they were going to get for Christmas. Bah! We had to move up here just to keep from strangling the next neighbor that just happened to drop by unannounced.
But after a few decades, the silence really gets to you. You start to have conversations with icicles. And you don’t want to know what happens with the reindeer on a cold night. Good thing they can’t talk.
Still, it’s better than some places. At least the crime rate’s low here. Anyone stupid enough to be skulking about outside at night dies of exposure before the morning anyway. There’s always a couple each year. Keeps the price of feeding the herd down.
Ho ho ho,
Santa
- Chet
Dear Johnny,
Thanks for your recent letter in which you so thoughtfully just listed everything you wanted without asking anything about me. I’m sure you meant to, but just didn’t get to it, right? Right.
Things here at the North Pole are, well, they’re cold and miserable. Not like it’s any surprise to anyone; we knew what we were getting into when we moved here. But I never get used to it. It’s just so damn cold this time of year. It’s colder than a freezer on the Mars rover. For all they’re talking about global warming, you think it’d make it nicer up here, but not as far as I can tell. Maybe the glaciers are melting, but I’m not.
I guess we just lied to ourselves when we settled here. For one thing, we went house shopping in the summertime, which is always a mistake. Everything looks better on a summer’s day. What you really want to do is see a place at it’s worst. If you could tour a house during a blizzard in mid-winter, or during a hurricane evacuation, then you’d really know the downsides. But no, we saw something that looked almost nice, and convinced ourselves that it’d be fine. And now we’re stuck, so far underwater on the mortgage that we couldn't dig ourselves out with all the snow shovels I make every year.
And at first we loved the isolation. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand it was all the people around in our old neighborhood. Always stopping by, putting in a good word for themselves, trying to see what List they were on, asking what they were going to get for Christmas. Bah! We had to move up here just to keep from strangling the next neighbor that just happened to drop by unannounced.
But after a few decades, the silence really gets to you. You start to have conversations with icicles. And you don’t want to know what happens with the reindeer on a cold night. Good thing they can’t talk.
Still, it’s better than some places. At least the crime rate’s low here. Anyone stupid enough to be skulking about outside at night dies of exposure before the morning anyway. There’s always a couple each year. Keeps the price of feeding the herd down.
Ho ho ho,
Santa
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