Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl.

It really wasn't my fault what happened at Debbie's Christmas party. It was Carmella who spiked the punch with too much white russian. I can't help it if I drank 12 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like incense.

I thought it was funny when I put Kathy's poncho on my head and danced the Tango on the recliner while singing `Into the Mystic'. I didn't mean to break Debbie's vibrator and don't know why Debbie would sue me for armed robbery.

I don't remember calling Ken's wife a cuddly turkey---even though she looked like one with purple eye shadow and red lipstick!

And when I threw up on Kathy's husband's finger, it was only because I ate too much of that chili.

After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my mustang convertible through my neighbor's laundry room. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a chilly puppy and have me arrested for flashing!

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

Sincerely and swimmingly yours,
tj (Really a nice girl!)

P.S. It's only 7 bucks!