Dear Santa, I plead not guilty

Dear Santa,

Haven't talked to you in a while. How goes the low-carb diet? Heard you were having some trouble with the reindeer. Did it all work out?

On an unrelated note, thanks for the jerky. What was that, elk meat?

Per our agreement in the Claus/Shipley accords of 1991, I am invoking my right to respond in writing to the incidents that could hinder my chances at receiving presents this year.

Most of the questionable incidents can be explained simply by allowing me to state, for the record, that I suffer from Intermittent Explosive Personality Disorder and those incidents were therefore not my fault. I have enclosed a doctor's note to that effect.

As for the incidents where that excuse/justification doesn't work, I will address those individually.

First, the claim I said babies aren't cute. This remark was taken out of context, the full statement by me was "most babies aren't cute until they are at least 4 months old."

I feel I should not be penalized for this remark as that statement is true and not meant to be hurtful. I ask you, oh jolly fat man, if I tried to squeeze you through a porthole, what would you look like on the other side?

Second, the incident where I accidentally " and I stress accidentally " made an 8-year-old cry. I stand by my conviction that if you ask the question, you deserve an honest answer, no matter your age. I apologize if I have ruined Easter or marshmallow peeps for the young lady.

Finally, the highly publicized incident with the squirrel. To prevent further incrimination of myself and in the interest of decorum, I will refrain from mentioning details.

While I have no justification for my actions in regard to this (cough) incident, I would like to point out one critical point I think your jolliness is overlooking.

The squirrel started it.

Now on to important matters. This year for Christmas, I want only three things.

One, I want everyone around me to stop getting married. I don't know if you have any pull with Cupid but tell him to take a freakin' vacation. Five, FIVE weddings this year and already two scheduled for next year.

I'm not asking you to get me a girlfriend, not after the failed Russian bride experiment, but get everyone else to slow down. Perhaps start a false rumor that marriage makes you dumber or uglier. Britney Spears, anyone? Anyone?

I would also like a replica Cornhusker jersey or Heidi Klum, but only if she doesn't sing. Your choice.

While I don't mean to nitpick, I feel I must be specific to prevent a repeat of last year. While I enjoy a good joke, was it really necessary to get me a "I'm too pathetic to be with Stupid" T-shirt. Thanks again, fatty.

OK, that was uncalled for. Must be my disorder flaring up.

Happy Holidays and sincerely yours,

Jarid.

What non-materialistic thing do you want for Christmas? Tell me about it.