Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been good all year long.  I haven't gone to jail once.  (NOT ONCE!)  In fact, the police only came to my house one time and it was because of the neighbors.  (I didn't even call them.  The police, I mean.)  I did have bad thoughts about the neighbors but it was completely justified.  (They are bad.  They don't pick up their cigs or their dog poop).  I know I complained about my new neighbors, but would it have hurt them to come over and say they didn't appreciate the wonderful new tree house in the side yard instead of calling the city's zoning officer?  (His name is Mark and he's very nice but he doesn't seem to really know what the zoning laws are.  There was disagreement of whether or not a structure on the side of the house could have a roof or not, and if it had a platform of over six feet, whether it needed a building permit.  The whole thing gave me a headache, so we moved the tree house to the back of the yard where the new neighbors have to peer through the bushes to see it.  Maybe they need a new hedge cutter, Santa?)  I have complained about my daughter's moron cat's bad, poopy smell, but mostly I was joking at his expense.  (I don't think he understands that I'm making fun of him, but I do give him extra crunchy bites to make up for it.)  HIM has borne some of the brunt of my snarkiness, but only in a funny fashion and with his permission.  (If he's going to act like Pain In The Ass Man, then I'm going to blog about it.  Is that being naughty?)  I did brake for all those chipmunks, squirrels, and the one stupid cat licking his butt in the middle of the street.  (Butt cleanliness was obviously of great importance to that particular feline.)  I helped load an old lady's groceries into a car last month and she offered me a dollar.  (I didn't take the dollar.)  I was on my best behavior with my inlaws during a recent visit, and I had a head cold at the time.  (This was a trial and there are reasons why I could have been REALLY, REALLY bad.  We'll leave it at the ambiguous "reasons" because I'm not allowed to blog about them.)  (By the way, do the elves ever make something for head colds, because that would be really bitching.)  I fully prescribed to the one good deed a day theorem.  (One little thing a day, no matter how small.)  I'm really sorry about the mouse that Megaroy brought into the house, but he/she/it would not let us catch he/she/it and I don't want hantavirus.  I totally would have put the mouse outside if we could have caught it.

So with the summery, here's what I want.

I would like B&N to stop dicking around and publish Bubba and the Mysterious Murder Note.  I know you've read the Bubba books, Santa, and probably Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas specifically.  Everyone knows Santa has a kicking sense of humor and likes Texans in particular.  Plus you know, Santa, how much of proceeds go to charity.  You know.

Just wanted to see if anyone was paying attention.

So I sent 7 emails to the people at Pubit!, which is a B&N publisher for indie authors.  They sent me two roboresponses and nothing changed.  One email had a title of "Naked BOOBIES Below", just to see if it would get their attention.  I guess it was the asexual one's turn to read the email, or maybe they thought I was being lewd and deleted it.  (I had to try something different.  Obviously they weren't answering their email.  I'm not even sure if they're looking at it.  If it was paper letters, it would be used as TP or bird cage liners.)  By the way, Santa, Pubit!'s email is pubit@bn.com.  Feel Free to try it yourself.  Maybe if they got an email from Santa, they would be a little more amenable.  May I suggest something like: Dear Pubit!, You're going to get coal in your stocking if you don't publish Bubba and the Mysterious Murder Note.  Sincerely, Santa Claus.  P.S.  J. L. K., I know about that secret hoard of magazines under your bed.  Your mother knows, too.

This is really wrong, but I still laughed.

Yesterday I called the customer service line for B&N.  (That's 1-800-843-2665).  They had me on hold for 55 minutes before I gave up.  Today I called the same number and was on hold for twenty minutes and then I got to talk to a nice young lady from India.  Her name was Keetah or Kita or something like that.  She listened to me for a while and then asked if I was happy with my Nook.  When I re-explained my problem, she transferred me to another nice young lady from another country.  I did not catch her name but she kept calling me Kim (Five times).  She put me on hold and then came back about ten minutes later.  (This is the part of me being good, because I did not explode on the phone the way I normally would have.)  She transferred me to the digital services department where I talked to May.  (I'm not sure where she was located.)  May couldn't quite seem to grasp that I did not have a problem with a Nook book that I had purchased.  Eventually, she put me on hold.  Then she came back and directed me to the B&N Distribution Center at 1-732-656-7285.  The recording there seems to think that I should have some sort of purchase order or such.  I dialed 0 because I just wanted to talk to someone live, even if they were on another continent.  Well, I think you know what happened, Santa.  They didn't answer.  And furthermore, there wasn't a way to leave a message.  (Coal!  Coal!  Coal!)

So today, I shall try another email to Pubit!  But I thought I would drop a line to you, Santa, so that you could put in a good word for me.  You know, like, the book doesn't sell to die hard Nook fans if the book isn't available because the book is languishing in the "processing" mode and no one seems to answer the emails there.  What do you think, Santa?  I'm thinking B&N is getting more coal in their stockings again this year.  May I suggest smelly, nasty coal?  Wait, is that suggestion being naughty?

Anyway, good will toward all men people, fiscal cliff being narrowly avoided, no more mass shootings, and Megaroy's poop miraculously not smelling anymore, would all be good additions to my want list.  Thank you in advance.

You the man, Santa, and feel free to eat as many Moon Pies as you want when you visit.  (There's a whole box in the pantry.)

Sincerely,

Fat Woman

P.S.  I will be spiking the egg nog, so don't drink too much.  And for God's sake, tell Rudolph that his nose is a little too bright at night.  NASA was very upset last year, here.