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Dear Santa,
I have been a good boy.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at roger's Christmas party. It was adam who spiked the punch with too much beer. I can't help it if I drank 27 glasses. It was so good--- smelled and tasted just like ganja.
I thought it was funny when I put steve's panties on my head and danced the cha-cha on the chesterfield while singing `rainy day woman'. I didn't mean to break roger's dvd player and don't know why roger would sue me for malicious mischief.
I don't remember calling jeff's wife a fucked cow---even though she looked like one with green eye shadow and pink lipstick!
And when I threw up on jenn's husband's penis, it was only because I ate too much of that pretzel.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my nova through my neighbor's bathroom. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a giant giraffe and have me arrested for extortion!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all fucked and screwed. And I'm really not to blame for any of this jacked stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and fucked yours,
ian (Really a nice boy!)
P.S. It's only 1234 bucks!
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This Space for Rent. CF4L!
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