My Dearest Josh Guest,
While I have not always been the most reliable friend to you, this one question I can answer, but only for you. As a person of great standing you must truly understand that any strand of pearls can and will be bought at a local jewelry store but these, THESE pearls are special. Why are they so special you ask? Well let me just tell you.
While I have not always been the most reliable friend to you, this one question I can answer, but only for you. As a person of great standing you must truly understand that any strand of pearls can and will be bought at a local jewelry store but these, THESE pearls are special. Why are they so special you ask? Well let me just tell you.
DISCLAIMER: IF ONE OR ALL PARTIES READING THIS BLOG ARE STILL BELIEVERS IN SANTA...KEEP READING.
Young Josh, the lovely strand of pearls that you inquired about came from the North Pole from one obese elderly man in red. In my many travels I have had the opportunity to travel to the top of our little planet. I was wearing nothing but my lucky jeans(which unfortunately have a hole in them mid-thigh, NOT GOOD FOR SNOW)and a light NorthFace fleece jacket. Needless to say it was rather chilly with their negative 600 degree weather.
While I was making my way up to the top of Mt. Crumpit I fell upon some rather sweet reindeer friends I now affectionately call Vixen, and Donner. As you might know all of Santa's reindeer are female so I felt comfortable when Donner asked me to jump on her back and she would take me to warmth. Like any 20 year old I trusted the talking snow creature and hopped on.
Our adventure was swift and bloody freezing. As we arrived to our destination I knew immediately that we were at Santa's house. I knew this primarily from the giant sign that said "Welcome to Santa's house." Vixen invited me inside the shack and being the trusting soul I am I politely obliged. Inside I found a whole lot of cookies, candy canes and reindeer feces, they all live together you see. The rather heavy man sitting in the big red chair had invited me to sit on his lap. Now I have been around the block and any man older than 40 who invites you to sit on his lap is officially labeled CREEPER. Regretfully I declined the molesters offer and sat next to my home girls AKA The Reindeer.
The old man continued to try to talk to me but I think after 6 hours he finally picked up on my, "please don't talk to me's" and the occasional, "They let you near children?" Not taking offence to any of these comments he finally asked me to step outside with him. I agreed due to the fact that the sweet smell of cookies and scat, were getting to my stomach.
After a few awkward moments the elderly gentleman asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I answered the same way that I answered you today Brother Guest, " I want to go home and see my family." In addition I asked him for some help with the whole getting warm thing. He made a suggestive comment to me and was quickly met with a rapid slap to the face (that's really why his cheeks are always red) and then he did something unexpected. He rolled up a very small snowball, then another, then another. After about 50 snowballs he pulled a very long white hair from his beard and laid it across the snowballs. One warm breath from his mouth and the hair sunk into the white balls. He then lifted the roped snowball necklace from the ground and tied it around my neck. He swore that the necklace would keep Me warm. I called BS on that but it worked! Then he poofed me home to my family.
So sir, as you might have concluded, I wore the pearls to church today not to look nice but to keep me warm.
Thank you very much for your inquiry about my necklace and I hope I renewed your faith in Santa my very tall handsome friend.
Your Over Dramatic Wife for the Day,
Ash
