Corrupt A Wish

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Granted...you woke up healthy but with the fully intact memory of the dream you endured which detailed you making out with Burt Reynolds.

I wish I had seen the last episode of Big Bang Theory.

Granted, the series was killed in its infancy and the first episode was the last.

I wish trees didn't hate me so much

Granted. Trees don't hate you but the baby squirrels which reside in them do.

I wish I could transform myself into a flower or plant any time I wanted to.

Granted, but you'll be picked.

I wish baby squirrels wouldn't hate me.

Granted. They don't. Instead, they ignore you which tramples a lot on your self esteem and leads you to drinking.

I wish I was handsome.

Granted, you are handsome. However, now everyone wants to date you and you run to the hills.

I wish I invented a soda pop that tasted Awesome!! !

Granted, but you won't make any money off of it because you're the only one who thinks it tastes awesome.

I wish this persistent coughing wasn't keeping me awake.

Granted, now this persistent sneezing is keeping you awake.

I wish I didn’t sleep so poorly.

Granted. You sleep for 20 yeas like Rip Van Winkle.

I wish for a sunny day.

Granted. 10,000 years of sunny days later the few remaining human survivors curse your name while sipping reclaimed moisture through a straw.

I wish for a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Granted. You will be so merry that you won't remember it.

I wish to hear Santa's sleigh bells.

You hear them. All the time.

I wish to receive lots of money for Christmas.

Granted, all the chocolate money you can handle.

I wish that my nephews and nieces would like the presents I'm giving them for Christmas.

Father Christmas pours diamonds down your chimney, filling your lounge. Overnight you become the richest man in the world. However, the hot coals in your fireplace ignite them and the resulting carbon fire roasts you alive in your bed, which is a shame because you never even knew you were rich.

Father Christmas is later captured, but pleads insanity and is sent to a secure facility. Two years later he is shot while trying to escape.

I wish for some hot buttered toast.

Sorry, duplicate. Do Murihiku's one.

Granted. Your nephews and nieces will like your presents so much that they will spend the rest of Christmas day jumping all over you.

Also: Granted. You have hot buttered toast, but it's 100 square feet. So it's outside on the lawn and the butter is getting cold.

I wish that I will be a more grateful person in 2014.