Santas Dilemma

Dear Santa

I’m writing early this year

Especially after the debacle of last year

You delivered the sexy underwear and the two-day hotel break to my wife

What the hell were you thinking

Does my wife look like she can get into a size ten

You useless fat bastard

Two days I had to suffer the wife parading herself

It was psychological torture

Swear to god, if I could’ve got my hands on you

Still swithering on suing your fat ass

This year I’m going to lay it on the line

Deliver it to the wrong address

Your Ho ho ho, will be, Oh oh oh

Do I make myself clear

Now listen up

Face pack and support tights

They go to the wife

Basque and French knickers, hotel included

To the lover

Don’t make me go back to that hotel with the wife

Or, I swear, you’ll be wearing those reindeer

Do you need a reminder

Have you got it now

Oh, and merry Christmas.