Wednesday, 9 December 2009

What I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa,

I have been a good boy this year. I sometimes let women with prams out the bus before I get on. I eat my greens and brush my teeth with kosher Colgate. Here is a list of what I want:

– A heat-seeking chrome-tipped nuclear missile
– An independent Iranian state ruled by the Nesquik bunny
– For Random House to print only celebrity autobiographies until their nostrils shit nickels
– Advertising for third-rate films and books on every pavement and outside every building
– Gravy slacks and celery sneakers
– Penguin waiters
– To raise Hunter S. Thompson from the dead so he can apologise
– For M.J. Nicholls to shut up and use his forename
– Cellos for breakfast, violas for supper
– For every celebrity author to beaten to death with a bulletproof edition of Finnegans Wake
– Death to capitalism
– For the decimal point to come out of retirement
– Bum lather

I trust you will fulfil my wishes, Santa. You have never let me down once, even when I asked for samples of Stan Laurel’s urine… you were on hand with a cup and a dead slapstick actor for me.


Markie J


  1. Rather than going for the usual response "I want what he's on," I shall respond in the relaxed manner of my day.


    We seem to be gearing up for the holidays. Chesthairs roasting on an open fire, and such. Can't wait, myself.

    I hope you get all you want...especially that decimal point. He gave up to soon, if you ask me.

  2. *falls off chair*

    Oh Markie, I think you need a spanking. I know a mischief of she-devils that might be willing to take up the task.

  3. Chris: Cool is cool. I'm going to my folks for Christmas. My mum can't pick me up from the station on Christmas Eve, so I have to walk the mile back to my parents' house. Filial neglect, methinks.

    Tart: I've been a bad boy.

  4. Well I know just the ladies to punish you properly, though I'll warn you, at least three of them have sworn to marry a Scotsman, so you probably want to be a little careful as to what the spankings involve.

    Last I counted we were four score young lovelies between 16 and 19 1/2.

  5. That's awful, Marcus (Welby M.D.)! You'll have to use your legs (I've been told). Start training now by walking from one end of the room to the other once (or twice even) a day. By Christmas Eve you'll be fit for the challenge.

  6. Tart: I'm greased up and ready to go.

    Chris: I'm greased up and ready to go.