I fear I have left it too late for Royal Mail to deliver you my letter for Christmas this year. Never the less if I put a load of 1st Class stamps on it and slip the postman a tenner then you may get it. I have to be honest I don't believe in you and really never have, ever since I was young and heard my parents wrapping my presents. But in an infinite space there are naturally an infinite number of possibilities so somewhere it is finitely probable that you exist and you're not just some fat drunk in a smelly suit or some marketing ploy from Coca-Cola.
I realise that I should use this time to ask for what I want for Christmas rather than ponder the deep mysteries of our universe and the possibilities of multiple universes. So here goes.
- 12 hours sleep every night for at least a year followed by a few more years.
- Peace and quiet. This is quite a general thing to ask for. But at least give me the time to be able to finish the crossword in the bath.
- The person who stole my car wing mirror last week to fall foul of some horrible affliction. Don't mind what it is but make it bad as they have cost me £80 and a lot of tedious mucking around.
- Cold hard cash. I don't want to seem greedy but a sum of around £10,000 should suffice.
- And finally good cheer and peace to all men yada yada yada.
I understand that some of these things I ask for might involve robbing a bank or actually assault towards another human being, so just make sure you don't get caught. If you do get caught it would blow the whole illusion of you being a jolly fellow.
I can hand on heart tell you Mr Claus that I have been a good boy this year apart from things The Chancellor doesn't know about. I hope you and your wife enjoy your roast venison this yule tide.
Yours in constant cynicism,