At the corner of my puny brain, I wanted a porsche. Please, pretty please... If not this year, may be next year. or the year after next. But you really have to give me a porsche, santa.
I wanted it, not because our president once owned a carrera but because someday I want to step out of my shiny porsche and walk to a guard and punch him in the head, in his mouth, in his belly, and kick him like a poor animal. I really like the "angas" of one of our legislators from the south. Like him, I would treat everyone like oompaloompas -- fealty creatures, because unlike them, I knew I am born into nobility, a sense of entitlement etched and flowing in my veins.
P.S.
Santaklaws, is there a school or an institution that would train me how to have that "angas"? Maybe you can also give me a GC for that.
