Like, Everyone Ever - Santa Baby
Santa Baby, Just slip a sable under the tree For me Been an awful good girl Santa Baby, So hurry down the chimney tonight According to many sources out there, a “sable” is some sort of brush. Now, I would...
Santa Baby, Just slip a sable under the tree For me Been an awful good girl Santa Baby, So hurry down the chimney tonight
According to many sources out there, a “sable” is some sort of brush. 
Now, I would wonder why someone who has allegedly been a pretty good girl (in an awful kind of way) would ask for what is essentially an elaborate paintbrush. I mean, last Christmas I got my mum a pair of nice kitchen scissors from John Lewis (before you scoff they are bloody nice, she asked for them and they still enjoy regular usage to this day, and show no signs of failing to perform their arduous tasks. Mind you, one might ask what would befall a pair of scissors should they become crippled and unable to perform their duties – I mean, it’s not like they get a pension or anything? Before this becomes an article akin to Dave’s White Christmas piece and I move into anti-government territory, let’s move on) but really is a brush worthy of the same acclaim? It’s sort of hard to get excited about a brush.
“Happy Christmas darling! Thank you so much for Football Manager 2008!”
“Oh anytime dear. So, what’s this?”
“Er…it’s useful.”
“Useful? Like that power drill you bought me last Christmas?”
“…yeah.”
“Fucks Sake.”
Santa baby,
A 54 convertible too
Light blue
I'll wait up for you, dear
Santa baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight
In addition to her brush this particular woman would like a light blue convertible car that’s over half a century old. Admirable, but potentially foolish (anyone who watches top gear (and that really is anyone who’s anyone) Top Gear would have seen the disadvantages involved with owning an older vehicle (service charges and that. They mount up you know, it could end up being the most expensive present she ever receives). She also promises this young “Santa Claus” (what a thought eh, a baby “Santa” just with a really long beard. So essentially a beard with a red hat attached to it) that she will wait up for him; and with the myth that he only comes (what?) after you sleep, this means that she will be staying awake forever. Which is a bit foolish really, as no amount of red bull can help you achieve that and at the end of the day is it really worth allowing your state of health to be endangered by waiting up for a mythological entity that may never come? No, there will not be any religious jokes today.
Think of all the fun I've missed Think of all the Fella's that I haven't kissed Next year I could be just as good If you'll check out my Christmas list
She’s missed fun. Lot’s of fun. So much fun in fact that she could have been a member of 50 Cent’s crew – in-between bastardizing music and shooting garden hoes and that he does enjoy a good time, and she could have even kissed him! Imagine that! Come on though that would so be one for the grandkids (“I kissed 50 Cent you know, back when I was young and hip and still had my hip”), when their listening to their futuristic mid-21st century rap/classical music mix and curious about where it all started. This woman also claims that she can be just as good next year (which doesn’t sound very good if she describes her attempt at being good as “awful”), if only Mr. Claus checks out her list. My list has a new saucepan on it you know.
Santa Baby, I want a yacht and really that's not A lot Been an angel all year Santa Baby, So hurry down the chimney tonight
This dame then claims that she would very much like a yacht from “Father Christmas”, and that apparently this isn’t a lot (depending on what type of yacht she wants though – technically a yacht (in the literal sense of the dictionary) is just a small boat, and I can hardly see that impressing her). Her pitiful attempts at being good apparently mean that she’s been an angel all year and is entitled to a yacht. I would have thought she’d be lucky to get an ybox90 (like an xbox360 but not quite so good) at best.
Santa honey, One little thing I really need The deed To a platinum mine Santa Baby, So hurry down the chimney tonight
It would appear that this lady has taken a line from Craig David and decided to try it out with a male pot of honey in the form of “Santa Claus” (so imagine a pot of honey with a red christmassy hat on it, essentially). She also thinks that a pot of honey has secured the deeds to a platinum mine (an expensive venture, not without it’s running costs either – there are some steep overheads with regards to mining, and we can’t forget issues when it comes to trade unions either). It is clear that this poor lady is beginning to have delusions of grandeur, and might quite possibly be insane. Oh dear.
Santa cutie, Fill my stocking with a duplex And checks Sign your 'ex' on the line Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight
According to several online dictionaries, there are a plethora of
different definitions as to what duplex could possibly mean. The domineering one (well the first one I saw) was one regarding a duplex being an apartment with two floors – which begs the question as to what size stockings this lady requires? Someone’s enjoyed their Christmas dinners over the years it would appear! She also accuses “Santa” of being a “cutie” (a suggestion that I personally would resent, and would result in a Dog The Bounty Hunter styles pepper spray attack).
Come and trim my Christmas tree With some decorations bought at Tiffany's I really do believe in you Let´s see if you believe in me
This lady, in addition to a astonishing amount of presents, would like “Santa” to maintain her Christmas tree (whether or not this is a metaphor is unclear; the very thought of engaging in intercourse with “Santa Claus” is possibly one of the most incestuously disgusting images every conjured up).
Santa Baby, Forgot to mention one little thing A ring I don't mean on the phone Santa Baby, So hurry down the chimney tonight Hurry down the chimney tonight Hurry...tonight
One “minor” thing – this lady would quite like a ring. This is getting ridiculous, and is just a pure example of the commercialization of Christmas. 
We’ve had a song here about material possessions – do we even see songs about nativity plays any more? Oh no they probably aren’t PC any more. Maybe the kid should all just do Hamlet instead, it would be thrilling to see a five year old playing Uncle Claudius as opposed to the un-PC (and at times dire) nativity scene. I personally don’t think “Santa” should even ring her on the phone. The poor bastard.
In a final act of defiance, “Santa” (allegedly a baby but actually a really, really old man) is being requested to hurry. To “hurry”. This, a man who quite possibly suffers from arthritis and does one of the most physically demanding jobs in the world – this man is being told to hasten by some mildly insane woman. Somehow I doubt that her request is quite going to be fulfilled.
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