Now listen, you fat troll, I've been saving your ass every year, being the perfect Christmas present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in fake Chanel at sappy tea parties. I hate to break it to ya, Santa, but it's payback time. There had better be some changes around here, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and, trust me, you don't wanna be around to smell it. These are my demands for Christmas 1999:

1. Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker in hot pink bikinis. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro up your butt? I don't suppose you do.

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. That cheapo molded underwear some genius at Mattel came up with looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man ... I don't care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, bring me GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a boy toy, Ken. And what was up with that earring, anyway? HULLO!!??

4. It's about time you made us all anatomically correct. Give me arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. 'Nuff said.

6. A jog bra to wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Veterinarians and school teachers make real money.

8. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl complexion.

9. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie," complete with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 40 years, and I think I deserve a piece of the action.

Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel, I think these demands are reasonable. If you don't like it, you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

As ever,