I know this is going to hit some of you hard, like little Ruby Gilcrest of Foley Hills, West Virginia, and George W. Bush, but Christmas is cancelled this year.

Dump it all on me if you want, but you brought it on yourselves. At least you adults did. It’s bad enough this crap has been getting more and more commercial every year, but now I have to hear these heartbreaking sob stories about how shopping is down and stores are worried about meeting their financial predictions for fall quarters. Oh, cry me a river, you soulless coal-receiving jerks. I’m tired of the whole shebang. Ask my back what it needs this year, and it won’t say hauling all the world’s toys around in a single night and jumping down chimneys.

So for all you inconsiderate ingrates out there, consider yourselves the reason there’s no Christmas. All this talk about a year without a Santa Claus irks me something fierce. You want it? You got it.

I know a lot of people, even Mrs. Claus, think this is about The Polar Express, but it’s not—I’m not that petty, jeez, give me some credit. But if you want to talk Christmas movies, how about that Surviving Christmas crap? Or Christmas With the Kranks? Obviously a lot of you are wanting Christmas canceled anyhow. If I’m good at one thing, it’s giving people what they want.

Okay, I admit it—I’m a little bugged about The Polar Express. You’re saying I’m so disturbed about kids losing the Christmas spirit I have to kidnap them in bunches and hold them hostage at the North Pole? I think you’re the ones with the problem, Hollywood. You make films about Christ getting the himself beat out of him for three hours, I’m the one who’s off his nut? Screw you. If this is what you do to your icons, then you can deliver yourselves your own presents.

By the way, you think it’s a compliment being portrayed by Tom Hanks? I suppose I should be thanking you. The biggest name I can usually get is Ed Asner or Wilford Brimley. I don’t rate a little star power, people? Jude Law too busy, and did you refuse the money for Bruce Willis? I’ve always thought you guys played me too soft, too “ho ho ho,” but when you do play me tough, Tom Hanks is the guy you call? I wish I did abduct people now. I’d pinch De Niro and Scorsese both, make the best Santa Claus movie you never saw.

The fact these movies all bombed shows just how much love you all have left for Christmas anyway. Not that I can blame you. Human misery is everywhere in the world, people are dropping like flies in Iraq, the Ukranians are in the midst of government turmoil, reality TV is still king. To all those people who begged me to help decide the November election, whether you were serious or not, look—I’m not the voting population of Ohio. I can only work so many miracles when you people are so intensely divided. I deal in wish fulfillment, and I don’t play politics. If you’re good, I work to give you what you want. Try working it out with the rest of the people in the country, because it’s Santa Policy that I don’t grant one wish that directly contradicts another. This is also why I never deliver baby brothers or sisters.

I hate to take the “God” route with you all, but it’s time you started solving your own problems. Maybe instead of writing on your cutesy little Xmas list that you want “an end to world hunger,” you should wrap up a box of shredded wheat and send it to Rwanda. Let’s not put everything off on me.

Man, That Clown Kicked My Ass
Normally when I’m getting my dork kicked in, eventually my pathetic screams are enough to make the assailant lay off for a sec, at least long enough for me to grab the fender of a passing car and be dragged to safety. But not this clown. That dude was enjoying this shit.

I Promised to Stop Smoking Crack
It’s just like you to twist my words around. I think I’d remember, in the midst of all that automobile wreckage, whilst the paramedics were sweeping the windshield glass out of your eyes and the neighborhood was awash in a sea of swirling lights and sirens, if I had promised to stop using crack entirely. Please, that doesn’t even sound like me.

I, Robot Builder
The idea came to me while smoking pure PCP out of a trumpet I found in the trash, and watching that futuristic movie where Will Smith hunts down robots while wearing old school Converse sneakers. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever worn a pair of those, but whether you have or not, take it from me: They suck fuckin’ whale dork.

All She Wants to Do is Dance
Some believe the song to be written in protest of the U.S. government’s involvement with the Contras in Nicaragua, and the dolorous popular American apathy to the government’s actions and the plight of those wretched souls sucking up oxygen in the less-fortunate corners of our rondure. Could this hold the song’s true meaning? Sure, if you only want to listen to the song on its most obvious, cursory level.