By 
Yesterday the Postal Service decided to cancel their “Letters to Santa Program.” Every year, letters to Santa are forwarded to North Pole, Alaska, which seems like a fun place to live.
It really exists!
Once there, a team of over 2,000 volunteers send replies to good little girls and boys all over the country. Apparently one of last year’s volunteers was a sex offender so to protect the identities and addresses of children, the program has been canceled.
So thanks a lot you douchebag sexual deviant. Because of you, thousands of boys and girls won’t get a response back to this year’s Christmas letters. That includes me. ME!
Outraged and hurt, I’ve decided to write a letter to Santa anyways. Here it goes!
Dear Santa,
Hello! It’s me, Chris Bogue. I know that you’re getting really busy with Christmas coming up in almost a month, but I have a bone to pick with you. I think you know what it’s about.
I don’t expect a response from you to this letter, but I know in my heart that you’re reading. I just want you to know that by deciding not to respond to letters this year, you’re just giving fuel to the people who say you aren’t real. People like my jerk friend, Tinz. He tells me every year that you’re not real and its just my parents that buy me slacks and his parents that give him a big heavy chunk of coal that stains his pants and carpet every year.
What Tinz thinks of Christmas
And now you’re not responding to letters because apparently one of your helpers is a potentially dangerous pervert. Logic tells me that if you keep a double-checked list of everyone naughty and nice, a sex offender would surely be on the naughty list. However, I don’t credit this to you being fictional. I just think you’re too darn nice, yourself.
Case in point, I locked my little brother in a closet one year and ate ice cream while he screamed and cried and tried to escape. Surely I should have been on the naughty list, but what happened that Christmas? I got a bunch of Star Wars action figures and an X-Wing for them to fly in. A FRIGGIN X-WING!
Awesome as that was, if you had thrown in a lump of coal instead of AAA batteries, I would have gotten the message: Stop acting like a shit to your brother. In fact, I really didn’t deserve the X-Wing. You could have sent a powerful message.
Which is why I think you went about this whole sex offender thing in totally the wrong way. Instead of giving a sex offender a sweet job answering Christmas letters, maybe you should have sent them a dark black combustible piece of fossilized plant material. Or better yet, the next time you’re going through your list and you see little 42-year-old Brucey has been calling coworkers anonymously and breathing heavy into the phone, call the cops. IMMEDIATELY. Then keep them the Hell away from the North Pole. I know you need a lot of help during the season, but do you really want this guy spreading your Christmas cheer?
You really need to be more selective, Santa.
I really think the Post Office made the wrong decision on this one. If there’s anyone with the clout to change their mind, it’s you, Santa. You need to save Christmas. And if they won’t listen to you, contact me and we’ll save Christmas together. It’s always been a dream of mine to save Christmas. Ernest did it, Elmo’s done it, and now it’s my turn.
I hope you write me back soon. Even if you don’t I’ll save you a few oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk for the 25th. Good luck with all your hard work.
Oh, and this year, could you get me some new sweaters? And the Wonder Showzen DVDs? And the New Super Mario Brothers game? That looks pretty awesome.
Tell the Mrs. I said hi.
Love,
Christopher Bogue
Christmas. Me and you, Santa. Let's save it.
