Santa exists, people.
Just not like you’ve been told; he’s not a balding, bearded bloke with a beer belly who flies around the world and drops presents down our chimneys. The person who came up with that clearly didn’t really want it to get off the ground. The chimney thing, for starters, is just absurd. What about flats? And people on camping holidays? No, Santa is not the man in the shop window. He is whomever is making your Christmas wishes come true. So, this year, Santa is us.
He wants you to have what you want so badly that he’s got a bagful of everything. Everything besides dirty magazines, so if you had that in mind stop wanting those immediately. Those are bad for the environment. For your amusement and marketing susceptibility, each item is headlined with as cheesy a marketing pun as our cheesy minds could muster(d). Aha. Ahaha. Oh no, I think I’m going to be ill. Thankfully, our prizes sell themselves.
The deal is desperately unfair, but it’s in your favour so who cares? We offer you heaps of the best gear and you, er, you send one lousy email to firstname.lastname@example.org with your choice. That’s it. Winners will be picked at random and the loot will be mailed to you, so please include your postal addresses in the email. I know. Send an email AND type down your address. We really are pushing our luck.
If half the pleasure of Christmas is the giving, we’re going to have as happy a time as you lot.