Dear Family Member, Loved One, Guy I Talk to About Sports Occasionally, Spouse, or Fat Jolly Old Elf: Okay. Here’s what I actually want for Christmas.

– Someone to select, manufacture, wrap and ship next year’s Christmas presents and cards.

– Time refund for hours spent watching “Good Luck Chuck,” “Georgia Rule” and “Daddy Day Camp.”

– New spats.

– Name-brand fashions for less.

– To die with you, Wendy, on the streets tonight in an everlasting kiss. Huh!

– Cockles of my heart warmed.

– UWS 3 BR, 2.5 Bth, W/D, EIK, Riv Vu. Turnkey condition must be seen to be believed!

– Or a maraschino cherry. They’re delicious.

– British accent.

– The confidence to use Google’s “I’m Feeling Lucky” box.

– A javelin case.

– Not to get invited to any more parties in Brooklyn.

– To give it up for the comedy stylings of Mr. Richard Belzer.

– Ten cc’s of nembutal, stat.

– Abs of steel, buns of iron and thighs of a titanium-carbon fiber alloy.

– Theremin lessons.

– Lady Dreamer (5-1) in the fifth at Yonkers.

– To be accused of plagiarizing myself.

– You to wipe that smirk off your face before I count to ten, young man.

– An excuse to use the word “nefarious.”

– More movies about suave cat burglars.

– Lou Dobbs revealed to be illegal immigrant, deported back to Fatheadonia.

– Hip-hop-sounding nickname.

– Just a little freaking recognition for the efforts of Mr. Al Gore.

– Some answers, dammit.

– To be called “bootylicious.”

– “Yule Log: The Director’s Cut” DVD.

– Good taste.

– Bear traps added to “Dancing with the Stars.”

– Another crack at high school.

– America to succeed, unless that would harm the immediate prospects of my political party.

– An explanation why cockfighting is illegal but boxing isn’t.

– Kirsten Dunst.

– Higher taxes, an end to surveillance of terrorists and less legroom in coach. Why shouldn’t I suffer? I probably did something to deserve it.

– Wonkavator.

– Some me time.

– To stop wearing these orange Dockers.

– Mr. Big to tell Carrie that billionaires like him are no longer actually that interested in whiny, self-obsessed, weatherbeaten 45-year-olds who dress like JonBenet Ramsey.

– Eight more Judd Apatow comedies.

– Ph.D. in Freakonomics.

– 2008 political calculus shaken up by unexpected resurgence of Mayor McCheese.

– Removal of Howie Mandel’s soul patch, by force if necessary.

– Supermarket checkout line signs to read “12 items or fewer.”

– A really special relationship for Lauren Conrad.

– Return of “Viva Laughlin.”

– Manny to continue being Manny.

– Subscription to AM New York. So I don’t miss a single issue.

– Demons to stop howling my name in the night.

– Indefinite moratorium on use of phrase “I Heart Huckabee.”

– A fresh set of downs.

– The Village Voice to come back into existence.

– Global hegemony.

– 42 inch 1080p Sony plasma HDTV with built-in Betamax.

– Radio City to secede from New York City, declare world’s first constitutional Rockettocracy.

– To hide in the closet until the coast is clear.

– David Foster Wallace story without footnotes.

– Partridge Family reunion.

– To be shocked and/or awed.

– Mandatory waterboarding for any writer using “arguably,” “that said,” or “breakout star.”

– Just one single week to go by without any presidential debates.

– Mine enemies to beg mine forgiveness and lay their swords at mine feet.

– Whoville citizens to sentence Grinch to 25-to-life instead of welcoming him to their singalong.

– Banksy to come spraypaint some million-dollar whimsy on anything I own.

– Whiter bones.

– To pull my scarf out of the door of this cab I just got out of within the next two seconds.

– To be mistaken for John Krasinski.

– A surprise ending.

– 52 column ideas for next year.

– The sweet, sweet sound of Tom Brady’s right ulna snapping like a piece of kindling.

http://www.kylesmithonline.com