Now, Santa, you're a cool guy. It's really neat of you to bring everyone presents at Christmas, and it's pretty miraculous that you seem to get to every single house on the stroke of midnight. I'd love to know how, but I'm guessing it has a lot to do with quantum mechanics, so you can keep that a secret for now.

But I've got some beef with you. Do you have to drink every single glass of sherry that's left out for you? Dude, is cirrhosis of the liver on your Christmas list? That can't be good for you, man. And you're drinking and driving too! Think of the example you're setting! Sure, you might not find many other guys riding sleighs pulled by reindeer at that altitude, but what about planes? Church spires? Skyscrapers? I'd hate the thought of you crashing into the Manchester Hilton at 500 feet. Who'd deliver our presents then? Don't be the guy to break the hearts of children all over the world.

While you're at it, you might want to cut back on those mince pies too. I dread to think what your BMI is.