Why, good morning, Imaginary Awedience! Santa here! Came early this year.

Yes, I do realise it might not be what we usually call “morning”, but, for me, morning is the time of day -or night- when you wake up. So, here! Good morning to you all!

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That is my breakfast. Caffeine, Nicotine, and Love. “Why Love?” you ask? “Why not?” I respond.

I woke up with the thought in my head that I had to do something today. Something big. And when I say big, I mean BIG. But what? So I took my notebook and to write down a to-do list. But, in order to make a to-do list, you should know what to do beforehand. So I thought on and on and on and on. And then I knew what to do. You see, Awedience, when you think of something really hard, the whole universe conspires for that to happen. I really wished to think of something to write on my to-do list, and the universe gave that to me, at last…

 

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I automatically had done the first five. I shall rest now, drink some coffee, smoke some cigs, log onto Tumblr for some porn unicorn pictures, and then do the other two left.

 

Thanks for your time, Awedience. Santa Out.

#ImNotCrazy

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“Get out of me,” screams Mr Bed.

“But I don’t want to,” I reply.

“But you have to,” I hear the Mrs Toilet saying, “you’re about to pee your pants.”

“Make some coffee now!” the Miss Coffee Machine commands.

“Come shower, you stink,” says Lady Shower (or my mother; they have the same voice).

“Aren’t you hungry? Cook now!” the Sir Oven repeats on and on.

“New message! New message! Check me!” Mr Telephone shrieks.

“Change your clothes, for god sake!” Duchess Cupboard shakes her head.

* * *

And this is how I wake up every day.

 

Yes, I talk to inanimate objects. And they talk back.

Fine, they do all the talking, I just listen, nod, and never interrupt.

 

Burn.

Yours, Santa.