Dear Santa…

Dear Santa

I hope you are thriving up there at the North Pole and that you’re ready to creep down my chimney next week like an ageing pervert with a soot-fetish. We’re all very excited about you visiting us. Conjugal Kraken had fun at his work’s Christmas party, Kraken Junior has been shitting out glitter and I’ve been celebrating by screaming festive obscenities at the couriers who think my parcels belong to a house that’s fifteen fucking miles away. I trust, Santa, that your sat nav is a little more up to date than the runes that Parcel Force uses.

Anyway, Santa, I digress. The point of this missive is to give you my Christmas list. I’ve bought stuff for everyone I know and would hate to have a meltdown on Christmas morn because my own stocking is hanging flaccidly against my womanly grate. Darling, you need to fill it. Right to the top. And don’t forget that I have been a very good girl too, if ‘good’ means shouting the word ‘fuck’ at strangers and laughing at my husband’s gout. So here, lovely Santa, is what I want:

  1. For the Tories to go fuck themselves
  2. For Kraken Junior to stop following me into the shitter
  3. For Catilin Moran to just shut her bloody mouth
  4. For Julian Assange to be arrested for being a twat with a Messiah complex
  5. To not be privy to every fanny fart and pregnancy pile of K-Mid
  6. To stop being responsible for the actions of rapists
  7. For ITV 1 to suffocate agonisingly in a bucket of its own blandness
  8. To not to have to like other people’s kids
  9. For the Military Wives to stop making what they laughingly call music
  10. For an entire twelve months that doesn’t include a fucking Beatles tribute
  11. For benefits claimants to gather and administer 50,000 individual punches to George Osborne’s throat
  12. For Rihanna to wake up and smell the woman-beater
  13. For ads to stop treating women like extensions of their families
  14. For ads to stop treating men like they’re too thick to shit straight
  15. For no one to give a fuck about my wonderfully hefty arse
  16. For  the term ‘panty liner’ to be officially replaced with the term ‘flap hammock’
  17. For my next smear to not resemble an excursion into Wooky Hole
  18. For Keep Calm… posters to read Keep Calm and Fuck the Fuck Off
  19. For the nation to close their curtains just to distress the Tories
  20. For pink to be outlawed as the colour ‘for women’

That’s not too much to ask is it Santa? In fact I think I am being perfectly reasonable and even better none of it’ll take up any room on the sleigh (although I would be grateful if you could dangle Julian Assange off the back and drag his bollocks across every roof aerial north of Tunis).

So thank you Santa for making all of my dreams com true. And don’t worry if you can’t give me all the things I ask for because, let’s be fair, if you did I’d actually have to stop blogging and go back to my old bus station to shout at strangers again.

Thanks, fat man. Love ya!

The Kraken x

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4 Responses to Dear Santa…

  1. Sarah Miles says:

    Can I add the televised annihilation of the Daily Mail?

  2. Santa says:

    Ho Ho Ho.

    I’ll do my best!

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