stoopbeck

Well... I succumbed to peer pressure. Sorry.

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Sarah's Christmas party. It was Robyn who spiked the punch with too much vodka. I can't help it if I drank 25 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like vanilla sugar flavored lip balm.

I thought it was funny when I put Laura's knee socks on my head and danced the funky chicken on the coffee table while singing `"Macarthur Park"'. I didn't mean to break Sarah's remote control and don't know why Sarah would sue me for being an incurable nerd.

I don't remember calling Will's wife a slippery sheep---even though she looked like one with blue eye shadow and purple lipstick!

And when I threw up on Avis's husband's arm, it was only because I ate too much of that mac'n'cheese.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my tractor through my neighbor's living room. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a furry armadillo and have me arrested for wearing white after labor day!

So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all slimy and long. And I'm really not to blame for any of this pretty stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!

Sincerely and slowly yours,
Alex (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 42 bucks!