Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


Dear Santa

Dear Mr. Claus,

I know I stopped writing to you long ago, but please, would you hook a girl up? All I really want for Christmas is a ceramic heater, a roaring bonfire, long underwear, footie pajamas, electric socks, big wooly mittens, polartek clothing, a big pot of soup, a steaming tanker truck of coffee, a heated office chair, earmuffs, a hot toddy, some cinnamon red-hots, a hot water bottle, some wool sweaters, A really hot Baltimorean, a big fuzzy blanket, a wrap, a lap robe, a quilt, and the feeling back in my feet and fingertips. If it wouldn't be too much, I'd love heat in the bathroom downstairs too, or something to chisel myself off the seat with.

Oh, and could I have that today, instead of having to wait until Christmas? And, um, could you deliver those to my office?

Thanks so much. I've been "good" all year.

Special Sauce

edited to add: Dear Santa, while you're at it, can I have some dramamine and gingerale too, or perhaps the ability to just keep my lunch down? Thanks ever so much.


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