It all started when my muse was chattering away to me earlier today. He was sharpening his claws after slicing his catnip. I suppose he was high on the stuff because he spilled the beans about a conspiracy I didn't even know I needed to know about. Ya know? He must not have realized he was telling me top secret information about the secret society he belongs to, but I was hanging on every word while he confirmed the hard, cold truth about Santa.
Yes, Santa. That fat, presumably jolly (the elves say he gets cranky as soon as the Halloween decorations go up each year) seemingly immortal (yet aged) man living at the North Pole. THAT Santa. You have no idea the intricate thread work that is the workforce behind that guy. Well, you're about to... because I'm going to tell you all about it.
First of all, you need to know that he DOES exist. But he's not one guy. *GASP* I know! There's the main guy... the one that's often imitated and portrayed as the guy we all know and love, but there's a hierarchy at play that we're not privy to.
The guy we know is basically a spokes person. He handles the PR, if you will. The real ones in charge are a collective group of Santas all dealing with their own individual age range and gender. Yeah, that's right... The Santa which handles your wishlist now is not the same Santa responsible for that Cabbage Patch Doll you received in 87.
There's a specific Santa for just about everything you can think of. Little Janey wants a doll, Jolly Fat Santa can handle that. 20-something Kate needs a job; Human Recources Santa is on it. Betty needs the gossiping bitch at her office to shut up and Karmic Santa smites her with laryngitis.
My stoned up little muse basically told me that Santa is everywhere. And the elves... this is the wicked part... live among us. When you're wishing your boyfriend would know how to give you an orgasm... Elf 56 will be mysteriously handing out pamphlets at the doctor's office. When you have a paper due in three hours, elf 97 will be the Barista who offers you a double shot of espresso. And when you have something bitchy to say, Elf Zero will say it for you... randomly... without you even having to be there. He takes his direct orders from this Santa (he handles single women between the ages of 20 and 40).
Face it ladies... our wish lists have changed. Sure we would like a new tube of mascara and some expensive creamy moisturizer in our stockings... but we're old enough to know how commerce works and where those kinds of gifts come from. The stuff we can't buy... the stuff we really need... that comes from a higher power and now I know how to get it.
So how do you get Santa to listen up? Write him a letter! He has an elf who's just chomping at the bit to help (the elf may even be one of your friends! I know! You have no idea how far this conspiracy goes!) Need help writing a letter? Use this as a template:
Dear Santa,
Please bitchslap Yolanda with a backhanded compliment.
You know why she deserves it.
Thank you.
Love,
Yours truly.
Don't be surprised if tomorrow somebody tells Yolanda their grandmother wears that same perfume and her hair looks so nice when she washes it. This somebody will be somebody who's authority Yolanda will be afraid to question so she'll just smile and take it. And you'll know in your heart that not only is Santa real... but he got your letter.
Unless Yolanda is a total, unequivocal imbecile whose head is so thick and oversized that she's unable to understand when she's been served. That's when Yolanda blocks the Elf on FB and claims victory.
ReplyDeleteEveryone should feel sorry for poor, deluded Yolanda and her terrible hair/smell. Too moronic to function. WAYFWTA.