Humor
A Letter To Santa
This is an intervention.
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Dear Santa,
This is a safe space. We’re all friends here. No, there aren’t any cookies and milk.
See, that’s part of the problem. You clearly suffer from metabolic syndrome, symptoms of which include high blood pressure, high blood sugar, excess body fat around the waist, and abnormal cholesterol levels. The syndrome increases even a mythical person’s risk for heart attack and stroke.
What if you die in some poor kid’s chimney? Have you thought about that?
Talk about trauma. That kid’ll buy some lucky therapist a second home in Vale.
We’d also like you to consider dialing back the rampant consumerism. Christmas should be about family and friends gathering together in love and fellowship. Not little Jimmy asking for a PlayStation 5.
Which, if an extra one were to fall off the sleigh, I could make it worth your while. Just sayin’.
And then there’s this alleged “workshop” at the “North Pole”. We have it on good authority that you’re actually using child labor in a condemned warehouse in Queens.
Oh, sure, suddenly it’s all “I want an attorney” and “I have rights.”
It’s always the same with you people. The Easter Bunny said we were “lapin-shaming” just because we questioned the health ramifications of hiding unrefrigerated eggs and encouraging excessive chocolate consumption.
We don’t even want to talk about what the Tooth Fairy was doing with all those teeth. It was a sort of tooth-henge that he insisted was art. Honestly, it creeped us out.
We didn’t want to have to go this far, Santa, but are these or are these not pictures of you snorting cocaine off a hooker’s, uh…butt. We try to keep our interventions PG, but really, you’re making that difficult.
And don’t even get us started about the obvious privacy issues with “he sees you when you’re sleeping.”
We’re sorry, Santa, but we may have to cancel you. Here’s a box of tissues. Have a good cathartic cry. That’s right, hug it out.
Maybe you could slim down, get healthy. Start a yoga retreat or something. You’re a charismatic guy.
Give yourself the gift of you, Santa.
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