Dear Santa,
You must be surprised that I’m writing you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month! (While filled with illusion I wrote you this letter) I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform.
I destroyed my brain studying the whole year! Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not going to lie to you Santa, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me. With my parents, my brothers, my friends and with my neighbors, I would go on errands and even help the elderly cross the street.
There was virtually nothing I wouldn’t do for humanity!
What ваlls you have leaving me a fuскing yo-yo, a sтuрid аss whistle, and a pair of socks! What the fuск were you thinking, you fат son of a вiтсh, that you’ve taken me for a sucker the whole fuскing year, to come out with some shiт like this under the dамn tree. As if you hadn’t fuскеd me enough, you gave that little shiтhеаd across the street so many fuскing toys, that he can’t even walk into his dамn house!
Please don’t let me see you trying to fit your big fат аss down my chimney next year! “I’ll fuск you up!” I’ll throw rocks at those sтuрid аss reindeers of yours, and scare them the fuск away, so you’ll have to walk your big fат аss back to the northpole, just like i have to do since you didn’t get me that fuскing bike, you punk вiтсh!!
You know what santa, fuск you!! Next year you’ll find out how bad i can really fuскing be…you’ve been sleeping on a мотhеrfuскеr far too long!
So watch your back next year, you fат вiтсh!
Sincerely,
Little Johnny
Reported in the Massachusetts Bar Association Lawyers Journal, the following are questions actually asked of witnesses by attorneys during trials and, in certain cases, the responses given by insightful witnesses: … …

(1) “Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?” …

(2) “The youngest son, the twenty-year old, how old is he?” …

(3) “Were you present when your picture was taken?” …

(4) “Were you alone or by yourself?”
(5) “Was it you or your younger brother who was killed in the war?”
(6) “Did he кill you?”
(7) “You were there until the time you left, is that true?”
(8) “How many times have you committed suicide?”
(9) Q:
“So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?”
“Yes.”
“And what were you doing at that time?”
(10) Q:
“She had three children, right?”
“Yes.”
“How many were boys?”
“None.”
“How many were girls?”
(11) Q:
“You say the stairs went down to the basement?”
“Yes.”
“And these stairs, did they go up also?”
(12) Q:
“All your responses must be оrаl, OK? What school did you go to?”
“Оrаl.”
“What city do you currently reside in?”
“Оrаl.”
(13) Q:
“Do you recall the time that you examined the body?”
“The autopsy started around 8:30 p. M.”
“And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?”
“No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy.”
(14) Q:
“You were shot in the fracas?”
“No, I was shot midway between the fracas and the navel.”
Two 90-year-old women, Bertha and Betty, had been friends all of their lives.
When it was clear that Bertha was dying, Betty visited her every day.
One day Betty said, “Bertha, we both loved playing softball all our lives, and we played all through high school. Please do me one favor: When you get to heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s women’s softball there.”
Bertha looked up at Betty from her deathbed and said, “Betty, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favor for you.”
Shortly after that, Bertha passed on.
A few nights later, Betty was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, “Betty, Betty.”
“Who is it?” asked Betty, sitting up suddenly. “Who is it?”
“Betty - it’s me, Bertha.”
“You’re not Bertha. Bertha just died.”
“I’m telling you, it’s me, Bertha,” insisted the voice.
“Bertha! Where are you?”
“In heaven,” replied Bertha. “I have some really good news and a little bad news.”
“Tell me the good news first,” said Betty.
“The good news,” Bertha said, “is that there’s women’s softball in heaven. Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before me are here, too. Even better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always springtime and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and we never get tired.”
“That’s fantastic,” said Betty. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So what’s the bad news?”
“You’re pitching Tuesday.”