Dear Grace,

You got a lot of nerve. I give you free stuff every year, and this is the thanks I get? Up yours, princess. I guess this cashmere sweater’s going to your sister then. Oh, and I didn’t steal your Blackberry. I just took a look at it and put it right back where I found it (in the couch cushions, FYI). You do realize it’s a piece of shit, right? You might want to pick up a Tour or Storm and get rid of that ancient relic.

As for the wine, I was thirsty. It’s not my fault you’re a goddamn alcoholic. Most people would have had the courtesy to leave some milk or at least have some in the freaking house. But this is all about you, right?

I wouldn’t go “down your chimney,” as you so eloquently put it, if you were the last woman on earth. Judging by the sexts on your crappy phone, it’s probably not the safest place to be. And you might want to have that “fire” looked at. It’s not normal for it to burn down there.

Fuck off,
Santa

PS – Thanks for the panties!