This blog doesn't grant wishes. I seldom notice the wishes other people leave for me on blog comment lists, message boards, and emails. Most are boring but some are amusing. I'll note them in rare moments like this because I'm a gregarious, giving soul and I acknowledge my inferiors on a holiday dedicated to the spirit of giving. Here are the wishes that numerous mental defectives have for me, along with my decisions to grant them or not.
You wish I would shut up. Not on your lives, losers. I will run my big mouth until the day I die and then I'll be running it from the afterlife.
You wish I would hire you to work for me. No chance. There will never be any position vacancies at Alfidi Capital. I can't stand other human beings stealing credit for my work.
You wish I would get some brains. LOL, I recognize what psychologists call "projection" when I see it. My IQ tested over genius level in my teens and I've grown my intellect since then by leaps and bounds. I already have more than enough brains to out-think all of my detractors combined and still have enough left over to run their lives for them.
You wish I would invest in your half-baked business plan. Nope. I'm very selective about where I commit my time and money. I have a handful of commitments and I will make more at times of my choosing, not yours. Numbskulls like to send me their crayon scribblings and waste my time at event receptions. Get a life, suckers.
You wish I would lay off the pursuit of a local Stolen Valor fraud. NO! I've sent everything I have to the relevant investigators and I'll be in the courtroom watching when one particular phony is indicted for the harm he has done to veterans. His accomplices will be shocked when they also go down hard for aiding his criminality.
You wish I would publish your guest blog article on my own blog. Nuh-uh. My blog is for my voice only. Get your own gall-dang blog.
You can all plainly see just how generous I am with granting wishes. Merry freakin' Christmas, stupid losers. I made my list and checked it twice, but I'm way more accurate than Santa. I celebrate the natural turning of the seasons because I don't need any imaginary supernatural parent granting my requests. I stopped making wishes as a child. I'd rather make plans like an adult and then execute them with full force and enthusiasm.
I would have celebrated today's holiday in one of San Francisco's finer adult establishments but I was too lazy to make the trek up to Columbus and Broadway to see if they were open. Bah, humbug. Plenty of attractive women seek out my company anyway, which is more than I can say for my critics. Their wishes for me are a bunch of baloney.