To: All the Little Boys and Girls

From: Santa

Subject: My Annual Christmas Letter

Greetings from the Cayman Islands. I’m down here with the Easter Bunny attending a seminar on how to conduct business in these trying times. Just wanted to give you a heads-up not to be expecting anything in your stockings this Christmas.

I won’t be sliding down any chimneys, even though I had lap-band surgery and my belly no longer jiggles like a bowl full of jelly. There’s no need to leave me any milk and cookies, because we failed to receive a stimulus package and Bernie Madoff stole my 401(k).

Pardon my typing, but I’m writing this on my new iPhone. It’s been a tough year. Someone stole my identity (I think it was one of those department store Santas) and then the bank foreclosed on Santa’s Workshop.

Next, the EPA grounded Santa’s sleigh for leaving too large of a carbon footprint, so don’t blame me if there is nothing under the tree this year for you. I’m not the Big Grinch that stole your Christmas – Al Gore is.

My biggest news is that Mrs. Claus ran off with the Tooth Fairy. They hope to get married in one the states where that sort of thing is legal. Mrs. Claus said she was leaving me because I was always working and that I was gone from home too much. Especially this time of year.

But, I don’t see how the Tooth Fairy is going to be traveling less than me. If anything, she’ll be gone from Mrs. Claus more than I was.

Santa’s little elves decided to unionize and join the International Brotherhood of Elves and Fairies this year, so I did a cost/benefit analysis and found that I could buy all my toys from China and Walmart cheaper and have them shipped to all your houses via UPS and FedEx.

Don’t bother writing me any more “Dear Santa” letters; instead, just click on the hyperlink to Amazon.com and order your Christmas presents direct. Free shipping too, just like I used to do (but that was before the reindeer mutinied on me).

Rudolph’s nose has turned an even brighter shade of red as a result of his drinking problem. I sent him to Betty Ford, but he fell in with Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton and their crowd, so he is now drinking worse than ever.

Vixen, that shameless hussy, has become a spokesperson for PETA and posed nude for them.

I’m really happy for Comet and Cupid, who’ve been trying for years to have little reindeer but with no luck. After living together for years, they finally got married, had Cupid’s eggs harvested and their first child is now being carried by a Shorthorn cow in Minnesota. They’ve promised to name the kid after me – Prenup Claus.

Blitzen went on unemployment after the elf strike and Obama just extended his unemployment checks another six months, so he’s not even looking for another job. I heard he’s decided to go back to school to become an interior decorator, of all things.
I’m really stressed out because Donner just got a huge advance for a tell-all book about what really went on at the North Pole. I’m hoping his Alzheimer’s gets a lot worse so he doesn’t remember!
And you may have seen Dancer and Prancer on “Dancing With The Stars” this season. They made me proud and I thought they should have won, but the judges said their cha-cha was a little weak. But what do they know?

Dasher is on Wall Street and is in the running to replace the Geico gecko, who was killed by several annoyed TV watchers who grew tired of his commercials. We’ll find out if my letter of recommendation did any good, if you see Dasher in future ads.
I better close now, as the Easter Bunny and I are going scuba diving later. Don’t worry about me, I’ve recently started speed dating and I’m in negotiations with the Discovery channel for my own reality TV show next fall. In the meantime, you can follow me on Facebook and Twitter.

BFF (Best Friends Forever),
Santa

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