Wishful Dreaming

I had a dream about Santa the other night. I was at a gas station, and the attendant appeared to be Santa Clause.

Santa: Ho ho ho! How can I help you?
Me: Yeah, fill it up with regular please.
Santa: Ho ho ho! No problemo ho ho ho!
Me: Okay, I get it. You're dressed up as ... oh my God! You're Santa!
Santa: Ho ho ho! Yes I am!
Me: Haha, yeah right. I haven't believed in Santa Clause since I was 16.
Santa: You've been a bad boy this year, Jones Johnson.
Me: Whatchu talkin' about foo? I ain't that bad. Shieee.
Santa: Compared to others around you, you're quite the naughty one.
Me: Nigga, I swear! You got the wrong guy! Listen...
Santa: Your language is inexcusable.
Me: Your mom's inexcusable. No wait, your face is inexcusable. Sorry! Look dude... I admit I haven't been that great, but I'm trying! Isn't that worth something?
Santa: Well, I suppose so.
Me: So can I still tell you what I want for Christmas?
Santa: Hmm. Well, do you have anything in mind?
Me: Why, yes. Here's a list I printed out the other day.

I gave Santa the list, and then I decide it would be appropriate to sit on his lap and read my list outloud. Below is the list.


Jonesy's Christmas Wish List

1. A car from the future. Doesn't have to be a Benz or a BMW or anything. Actually, I want it to be a Ferrari. And I hope it flies! I hope it teleports. I hope its process of teleportation begins with flying!

2. Lifetime supply of Apple products. Because I'm one of those guys who thinks he's cool for owning Apple products. But really because Apple thinks it's cool for having guys like me that think they're cool for owning said products.

3. An exact replica of Brad Pitt's closet. Well, not the closet part, but the clothes in them because he looks awesome in clothes. I'm sure he has more than one closet, but you get the point. Oh, and obviously, the clothes would have to be in my size: XM for Extra Massive. And please include Angelina. Not the real life one, but the CGI one from Beowulf. Make sure she has all working parts (wink, wink). Yes, Santa, those winks mean that I want her to be able to eat and poop like a normal human, but be CGI. I wonder if CGI poop smells.

4. A cure for farting. But only give it to me, so that I am the only one in the world who lives a fart-free life. I call safety, by the way. See?!

5. A baby Tyrannosaurus rex. Have it so that it never grows up. I want one so badly! My want for one is the same way little girls want ponies, except I want my baby rex to kill small animals. Have you seen that Verizon commercial with the pony, by the way? Eww! Anyhoo, make sure that the T-rex will love me. If it's a boy, I'll name it Leroy. If it has a vagina, I'll name it Vagina. Please make sure it's a boy.

I woke up shortly after I farted on Santa's lap.