Dear Santy Claus,
My wishlist this year isn’t like the rest. I’m too old for a Barbie doll. I’m too cool for a teddy bear. And I’ll die if I get another pair of fuzzy slippers. I’m a big Bunnie now. And these are what big bunnies NEED.
My very own Dyson Vacuum to pick up all the hair I shed. I think I’ve made a break through discovery. There seems to be a negative correlation between age and hair: The more your age increases, less hair you have. Wow, I’m smart.
A magic potion, special serum, secret food to keep my dry hands from ever being dry again. I can touch a maximum of 5 things before my hands crack open and my insides pour out.
A drastic drop in the housing market. A few thousand dollars for a house is good. I can afford that, thanks. OR you could just get me a house. I recommend Soprovich.com.
Laser eye surgery… for both eyes. {in case you were thinking of being cheap.} I’m nearly blind as a bat. Okay maybe not that bad, but without prescription eye wear, you look like a blurry blob to me… unless you’re about two inches away… which isn’t necessarily a bad thing if you’re a cute boy. But then maybe you’re be dirty. Or maybe you have stinky breath. Um, yeah. Laser eye surgery please.
Longer, plusher, fuller eyelashes. The laws of attraction are not in my favor and I have a feeling it’s because I’m aging. I’m thinking…. if you make my peepers a little prettier and a little peepier, I could use them to my advantage to lure little boys and old men. {No in betweens please.} After all, batting your eyelashes works right? And it’s sexy right? And I’d be really seductive…. right??
A happy, perky bum. You may {or may not} find this hard to believe, but the junk I have in the trunk is NOT typical for an Asian girl. Oh sure, I’ve got a bum bum, what a great ass-set. You say that now. But you’ll be laughing at me when I have rashes from my butt dragging on the ground and slapping against my thighs.
A new winter coat… with no holes, no rips, no lint and all the buttons in tact. I think that’s pretty straight forward.
The Snuggie {as seen on TV} because I probably won’t get a new winter coat. {And I probably wouldn’t like it anyways.} How does this serve as a substitute for a coat? You never know. I may just wear it out. New trend. Coming to a runway near you.
An anti-yawning pill. I’m serious. There’s something about sitting in a room and staring at someone talk for an hour in a monotone voice with no facial expression that induces me to yawn. Of course, you can’t open your mouth to let it out, so you clamp it shut. And then it happens. Your nostrils flare. And they flare really big. You look stupid. And then it happens another 15 times.
A {ridiculous} salary increase. Or a really really… really really big bonus. One that will allow me to buy a Dyson vacuum, my first house, and a classic Chanel. And maybe a Birkin bag. And the Marc Jacobs Stam too. And a pair of Chrissy Lous. And a diamond ring.
{Just imagine how much stress (and debt) some lucky guy would be relieved of… Yes I know, really, it’s beneficial for all.}
I’d also like to be able to donate to charity and feed and shelter the less fortunate in my area. Wait no, make that the world. : )
♥ Please and thank you.
XO,
P.S. Did I mention I make the best Pillsbury ready to bake cookies? And I have milk. Skim milk. {Trust me, you’ll thank me later.} Oh and you’re ridiculously good looking.
