STORY LETTERS
my letters to and from santa were originally published in the cadre's christmas issue december 6, 2000. the letters were inspired by an actual feature in the guardian where kids wrote in asking for the same crap, and saying the same things. i noticed a lot of the letters promised to leave food for santa, a lot of the kids had bizarre names, and some of the letters were from infants who could never write a letter on their own. so i decided to play the role of santa and make fun of these poor kids.
letters to santa

Dear Santa,
How are you? My name is Skyler and I am 1 year old. I like Christmas very a lot. Can I have some surprises this year? I was a good boy. Can you bring my ferret, Olga, some insects to eat? I will leave some dead mice for your reindeer, and a glass of egg nog for you.
Love Skyler

Dear Skyler
I am getting ready for another big Christmas this year, and I am very busy preparing the reindeer for the long ride. You'd be surprised how out of shape my deer get between Christmases because that's the only time anyone feeds them. Around spring time they're starving, so the mommy reindeers eat their babies. By the time a reindeer reaches your age, they are dead...so technically they don't even reach your age. I appreciate your offering for my deer, and I love egg nog and all other types of nogs, but the only surprise you will receive this Christmas is the shocking discovery that my reindeer ate your ferret.


Dear Santa
My name is Dakota, and I like you very much. I was a very good girl this year, and I did not get into any trouble at all. I was nice to my brother and I never hit him once, even after the time he told my crush, Chad, that I suffered from gout, and that I was really a man. Please give me gifts, but don't give my brother any because he is bad.
Yours truly,
Dakota

Dear Dakota
I try my best to keep track of who's naughty and who's nice, but nobody likes a squealer, Dakota. Especially not Santa. I believe you that you never hit your brother, but that's no reason for me to give you presents and not him. From what I can tell, your brother was just trying to protect Chad from an unlikeable little girl. He did Chad a favor, and if you truly like Chad, you 'll stay away from him. As far as gifts go, I'll get the elves to whip up some cream for your gout. I'm giving your brother a trip to Florida, but you can't go with him because you'd probably ruin his trip.


Dear Santa
My name is Pepe. I live in an orphanage, but I do not want any presents this year. I want all the other boys and girls to be happy and get the toys they want. The only gift that I ask for is to have a mommy and a daddy. I love you Santa.
From Pepe

Dear Pepe
That's mighty generous of you to not ask for any toys this year, but who the hell do you think I am? The Filipino black market for babies? I'm sure there are lots of parents who can 't have children of their own willing to pay good money for a healthy boy, but I got out of that market years ago after I got my elves from the underground slave trade in Taiwan. My advice to you, kid, is to make connections through the Internet, or place personal ads in newspapers. You're not going to get any parents by asking me for help, but if you have a strong back and little hands I could always use an extra person to work in my factory.


Dear Santa
I want the new Backstreet Boys CD, a belly shirt, and some body glitter for Christmas. It must be fun traveling around the world every year.
Love Jo-anne
P.S. just so you know, I will be five in January.

Dear Jo-anne
The Backstreet Boys sounded better when they were called New Kids On The Block. Little girls should not be dressing like the tramps that frequent Myron's and Casey's. It would be more fun traveling around the world every year, if I didn't spend the majority of my time with my arse stuck in a goddamn chimney. And I don't care when your birthday is, you're not getting any extra presents.


Dear Santa
I am six months old, and I can't wait to celebrate my first Christmas. I would like a dump truck, some new clothes, and a doll.
Love Albert

Dear Albert
Your parents cannot fool me. If you're really six months old, how did you learn how to write? And why would you be concerned with getting presents like a dump truck or clothes? When I was a year old, the only thing I wanted was food, sleep, and a place to vomit. Unless you're some sort of freak, super baby, I'm going to assume your parents forged your name on the letter. Santa doesn't take fraud lightly. Your parents will hear from my lawyers.