Hey, You in the Fuzzy Red Bermudas!

Dear Santa,

Now, first, let me say that I understand the unorthadox-ness of the post-Christmas missive. I know, I know, you’re all packed for the tropical holiday and you’re probably about as interested in more mail as I am in a tube of Monistat.

But, honey, we need to talk about your fulfillment department. Cause, well, there are some issues and the ISO9000 people are just not going to certify you with these systems.

First who handles your intake distribution? Cause you have got some putzes on the job, sweet-cheeks. Truly. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Some of my best friends are undersized men in green and red tights. But I think it’s safe to say that there’s a breakdown somewhere, and I don’t mean that situation after Mrs. Claus decided to swap a bottle of Chivas for her Prozac.

Let’s look at my case, as that is totally representational of 145 million gift recipients.

I asked for two things.

Either a Top Ten Blog, OR a vacation home in Maui.

And that vacation home was really just a back up and I was completely thinking of the children.

You know what happened Christmas morning, Ho-Ho-Ho-Meister? I woke up and checked my Alexa rating. I was not edging out Gawker for the number 8 spot. Nope. I was STILL sitting there keeping 88,217th place toasty warm. And while it’s good to know that I am beating out howtomakeyourownmullet.com for readership, I think you’ll understand how it’s hard to find a lot of joy in eighty-eight-thousandth place. There are no ribbons for that, Bristle Boy.

Also, if you left the keys for the vacation home here somewhere? You did an AWESOME job of hiding them. They weren’t in my stocking or under the tree, and if you picked someplace really creative, like, I dunno…under the refrigerator? Then between you and me, we ain’t gettin’ into the place without a rock and some broken glass.

You know what else? I got things I didn’t ask for! Like these eleven pounds. Who the hell thought I needed those? These were CLEARLY meant to be left at the home of some recovered Calvin Klein model who’s come to her goddamn senses and realizes that NO ONE thinks it’s sexy when you can count  a woman’s lymph nodes.

So, Santa, baby, come the season this time in 2011 let’s you and me go through your organizational processes. I can bring in some really good people for materials acquisition, supply chain, manufacturing, R & D, intake and fulfillment.

We’ll get you competitive with China in NO time.

And then maybe next year I won’t be giving you crap about the fur-lined Speedo.

Dude. Really.

hugs and kisses,



  1. DYING, you are frakkin’ HILARIOUS. <3 ISO9000, sweet cheeks, bristle boy, and fur-lined Speedo. MENTAL IMAGE NOT NEEDED!!!!! Thanks for that…now I'm scarred for life, like the 10 bazillion times sitting on Santa's creepy lap weren't enough to do that!

    P.S. All the Christmas stuff got put away and you can *almost* walk through my spare bedroom now…at least there's a path to the printer

    P.P.S. FIRST POSTER!!!! GO ME! :-)

  2. I heard that son of a betch made cut backs in the North Pole due to the poor economy…his little workers are more than peeved about it and it clearly showed yesterday a la Kimberly’s Casa when she recieved a medical bill in the mail for almost 3 thousand dollars.
    I told Santa I WANTED money not that I WANTED TO GIVE AWAY my money.
    Clearly, there has been a mistake.
    I also asked for fur lined speedos…wanna exchange gifts?

  3. My three year old just looked at me straight-faced and said “Mommy you laugh too much.” Thanks for the giggles.

  4. This.is.awesome.

    Santa better watch out. If he doesn’t deliver on those expected gifts, where is he going to turn when he has a point-calculation crisis? To you? I don’t think so.

    When he comes by with the top ten rating (on his way to that vacation home he doesn’t share in Maui, that greedy man) let him know that my laptop seems to be missing too….and I even checked under the refrigerator just in case.

  5. You’re in my top 10…does that count?

    Also – Santa gave me that special number I said I would never hit unless pregnant. Yep, I know weigh more than I ever have before in an unpregnant state. And I ain’t happy about it.

  6. Dear Lori,

    Thank you for bringing these pressing matters to my attention. Your timing is auspicious, as I have just cracked open a bottle of Patron and won’t be able to reply soon.

    I did fulfill your wish of being top blogger. You just weren’t dreaming on the right scale. A few million folks around the world is nothing to being top blogger at the North Pole. All NUMBER OF ELVES IS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION of my elves are huge fans and we are even looking at a Lori pin-up calendar for next year…

    In retrospect, I realize, you may not have felt the love, but the spirit of Christmas and Santa is about believing, didn’t you see the Polar Express? You must believe you are the Top Blogger. Without seeing it first-hand you must know that your elf fan base is HUGE!


    PS – I can’t discuss the vacation home.

  7. Thanks… thanks a whole bunch. I’ve been driving around all morning dropping kids off, returning items, and what do I keep seeing in my minds eye? You betcha… Santa and his furry little rump.
    This piece needs to be in a very popular magazine for the whole world to see. Have you called Oprah. You should get your people to talk to her people. I might subscribe if I knew you had a column.

  8. Deerr Loori,

    Vakay is goin grreeat and itz now time too diskus yor place in Mauuii. (I hav alsoo finishd the ferst bottl of PatrOn.)

    I did git u yor place in Maai, but ran intu a littl truble with an elf. You sea, I’ve bin secrtly havin coco wit someone besidz Mrs. Claws – a sweete littl elf in gft wrappin.

    The misses fownd outt! I nneeeded too stash myy efl frend somwhere and shhe liikes warrm wether.

    Wunce I soort thiss mess outr, Ill will trie to git youu thhe keyys to the MAuui plaace.


  9. Who’s Alexa and why is she rating us? I don’t like her already if she put you in 88,000 and some. What the hell does she know anyway? Oh my? did Miss Dana just swear? See, look what that woman creates. Canadians are generally very polite. I need to go and reassess. Alexa will be hearing from me, don’t you worry.

  10. I’m too stupid to know what Alexa is. And far too sensitive to go and find out and discover my ranking is actually something closer to 8 billion, meaning that every person in the world has a website ranking higher than mine, and a couple billion have two.

    I’m cool w/Santa though, because he brought me cheese.

    And that’s all I require for happiness.

  11. After all the plans you made to trash my house, don’t you think it’s possible that you just might have ended up on the naughty list?

    Maui, indeed!

  12. Man.. I can’t believe you didn’t get everything you asked for..
    You singing so pretty and all. Jeez Santa Baby…
    But thanks for all the laughs – a great gift!
    (And for what it’s worth, you are easily in my top 10 ratings)

  13. You tell ‘im! He was being pretty stingy here too. Winning lottery ticket? No. Dead wealthy relative I didn’t know about? No.

    Just a bunch of loves and hugs.

    I got extra to share with you!

  14. Oh Jeez, I don’t even know how to tell you this…are you sitting down?
    Okay here goes, Lori, sweetie, there IS no Santa Claus.

    Are you okay?
    Do you need a drink?

    Might as well get this over with, I know what you’re thinking the Easter bunny? Tooth Fairy? Fairy Godmother? Not real.
    Let me know if you need to talk.

  15. Stupid Santa. He’s been on the job so long, he’s not living up to his contract anymore.

    Maybe he needs to retire. But not to your vacation home.

    Man, I hope those keys aren’t under the fridge with that damn cat toy….

  16. Oh Mr Fuzzy Britches (did I just type britches?) ((shudder)) visited me alright, and had I the chance I would tell him:

    “Oy, fat boy. Yea you. Listen – hate it that you’re fat and married and destined to roam the earth ensconced in a red stuffed animal shell suit, but really? Was this Earth shatteringly heinous flu ABSOLUTELY necessary? I know your rosy cheeked joliness gets ever so slightly pale when you encounter those of us who have had sex THIS CENTURY (come on…we’ve all seen Mrs Claus), but do you KNOW how many Spaniards were invited to the New Year’s Eve party that I had to cancel?? Lots, my friend. Lots. Furthermore, if this flu does NOT bugger off before my trip to Madrid next week, there will be HELL TO PAY. And I’m starting with that bowl full of jelly.”

    Or something.

    – B x ((sniffle))

  17. Oh, screw Alexa. What does she know anyway? Your blog is the only one I make sure to read every day. Or as close to that as possible. There are others that I strive for, but if there is only one that I get to? It’s always yours. (I realize that this is little consolation as I have a total of 5 followers and no pull at all in the blogosphere, but I felt important saying it.)

  18. oh dear god help us.

    If you’re 88,000 then we’re the who’s in whoville.

    Happy New Year, dollface!! You’ve brought much joy and smiles and love to me this year. I thank you.

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