Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl.
It really wasn't my fault what happened at Nailz's Christmas party. It was Anne who spiked the punch with too much White Russian. I can't help it if I drank 16 glasses. It was so good---smelled and tasted just like cheese.
I thought it was funny when I put Cassie's socks on my head and danced the sprinkler on the couch while singing `Achey Brakey Heart'. I didn't mean to break Nailz's *buzz* and don't know why Nailz would sue me for solicitation.
I don't remember calling Ray's wife a furtive ewe---even though she looked like one with blue eye shadow and green lipstick!
And when I threw up on MaryPat's husband's knee, it was only because I ate too much of that ravioli.
After all that fun, I admit I was a little tired. So I fell asleep on my way home and drove my monster truck through my neighbor's window ledge. I don't think that was any reason for my neighbor to call me a goofy leopard and have me arrested for grand theft auto!
So, Santa...here I sit in my jail cell on Christmas Eve, all slimy and buxom. And I'm really not to blame for any of this heavy stuff. Please bring me what I want the most---bail money!
Sincerely and quickly yours,
Carlee (Really a nice girl!)
P.S. It's only 6 bucks!