Dear Santa, I think it's time to put the cards on the table and talk frankly, you hate me, right? Please, let's talk ...
For years and years, following the advice of my mother, I asked
only useful gift: a boyfriend stinking rich and vaguely similar to Jude Law, an easy job and paid well, a genetic mutation that would allow me to eat everything and lose weight 10kg, as a Porsche to Dylan McKay, sleep and wake me Elisabetta Canalis ... so just little things but still need! And you, what did you bring me all this? If you do not remember, I remember I said, Nothing From Nothing dear papa!
I remind you that this year (so as not to get too behind the times) I have received about 5kg more, and not where it would take (capisc'ammè), a work impegnativissimo and virtually unpaid, I also have a bike stolen, any man who even remotely, in the dark, with fog and sunglasses vaguely remember Jude Law (for details, "stinking rich" do not even talk about it) and up to me and I fell asleep I woke up with bags under his eyes.
At this point, you know what you are not ugly old fat guy who else? I will ask only trivial gifts: an I-Phone, a pair of Ferragamo flats and a Hermes bag! And if you do not bring me what I have Your own way, I know where you live!
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