be you of good or evil intent, born of alien virus or capitalistic machinations, please hear my call this lonely night -- I sit expectently under the miseltoe, my black sweats hung loose about my knees, my Gulls jersey carpeting my weak body, and my mind, oh my mind.  scattered around me are various scenarios involving candi kanes, kayla kupcakes, and exotic combinations of cinnamons and spices.  The nutmeg looks most enticing!  Please send what I want most in this world.  Send what I need.  Grind me up into mysterious little pieces, scatter my seeds to the wind and then with a chuckle of "ho ho ho" spread my cheer to the four corners of san diego.  Douse the donuts of LE.  Catch me in the filtrations of some La Jolla penthouse.  Sweep me off the welcome mat of some east county abode.  Strike me from the pinatas of Tijuana.  Go on, Santa, I dare you.  Hit me.  Hit me good.  This stove needs fire.  love, fahrkle