Jesus Was Born in June

There’s so much shit I don’t want for Xmas it’s staggering to consider. I look at the Ipods and the Nanos and the clothes, dear god the clothes, and the custom gym shoes and the digital cable attached to the giant TV and the crap, crap, crap and I could not care less.

I am not a luddite and not one to renounce material possessions, no, no, not me. So what do I want? Here:

To finish editing the manuscript and have it magically published without having to write a fucking query letter.

A bottle of Woodford Reserve bourbon.

A signed first edition of The Sound and The Fury or to magically go back in time and have dinner with Mikhail Bulgakov.

Too many CDs to name.

Los brazos de mi niña.

An honorary degree so I can quit school.

Cash.

Merry Xmas.