We’d rather have a Christmas list, right, because it’s free? Santa may just come crashing down your fireplace in December 24th—wait is it 25th?—with a huge red bag, and in his fat red suit. Then again, he might get stuck due to your very narrow fireplace, or Rudolf and the rest might not be able pull him because he’s just darn too heavy.

But here’s the problem, we don’t have a fireplace, and it’s not December, and most of all, Santa’s not real. If you want to argue with me, then feel free; besides I have a glut of books here on lores and the occult describing an Evil Santa as something fat, red, and hairy, who feeds on the dreams of sleeping innocent children.

So instead of making a Christmas list, I decided on a wish-list instead—you’re even lucky it’s not a murder list. What about you, is it going to be Christmas list, or wish-list?

If so, what will you write on it. Trust me, I want to know. One, I can plagiarize your entries on my own wish list, or two, if your wish list sucks and I deem your life to be overly miserable, I can add you to my murder list.