Dear Santa,

Listen you fat troll,  I've been saving your ass every year, being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in fake Chanel at sappy tea parties.  I hate to break it to ya', Santa, but it's pay back time.  There had better be some changes around here, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and trust me, you don't wanna be around to smell it.  These are my demands for Christmas 2003:

1.  Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt.  I'm sick of looking like a hooker in hot pink bikinis.  Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and Velcro up your butt?  I don't suppose you do.

2.  Real underwear that can be pulled on and off.  That cheap-o molded underwear some genius at Mattel came up with looks like cellulite!

3.  A REAL man... I don't care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, bring me GI JOE.  Hell,  I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a boy toy, Ken.  And what was up with that earring anyway?  HULLO!?!

4.  It's about time you made us all anatomically correct.  Give me arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5.  Breast reduction surgery.  'Nuff said.

6.  A jog bra.  To wear until I get the surgery.

7.  A new career.  Pet doctor, school teacher, whatever and make real money.

8.  A new, more modern persona.  Maybe "PMS Barbie," complete with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips.

9.  No more McDonald's endorsements.  The grease is wrecking my vinyl complexion.

10.  Mattel stock options.  It's been 40 years - I think I deserve a piece of the action.  Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel, I think these demands are reasonable.  If you don't like it, you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas.  It's that simple.

Yours truly,

Barbie