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When I originally typed the heading for this post, I typed, “Dear Satan Letter.”  Is that a sign?  I am not sure?  That reminds me of a funny story though.  Years ago, about 10 or more to be inexact, I kind of wrote Satan a letter with my mouth.  Let me explain.  I had what I will comfortably call now a mental break-time from reality.  It was not a breakdown, but a break-time.  I was coming out of the throes of a religious awakening that had crippled me and made it impossible for me to leave the house without thinking the sky would open wide and the final battle between good and evil was going to take place.
I was reading my Bible every night and praying the rosary, but I thought if even left the house to go the grocery store, I would see a beautiful woman, a beautiful married woman and I would fantasize about having sex with her in the frozen foods aisle.  I was taught growing up in school that thinking and wanting to sin was the same as sinning.  Sinning in the mind was the same as sinning in the physical world.  So, it was logical in my brain that as I was playing out this fantasy of lust and frozen peas in my brain, that is when Jesus would decide to make his much anticipated return and I would be caught in the midst of a sin.  This would mean that I would be on the bad team when judgment day happened.  An eternity in hell for one far fetched and steamy hot few minutes inside a Kroger.  Damn me.
So, this is why I was hesitant to leave the house.  Not to mention I constantly thought the demons from the movie Ghost were sucking my soul down to hell when I could not sleep at night.  Finally, enough was enough and I decided to go challenge God to show himself to me.  I drove to the highest point in town and threw rocks at the sky.  I really did this.  What a pathetic sight I am sure.  It was late at night and a bit cold.
As this awakening did not occur overnight exactly, I had started doing stand up comedy again during this.  I was starting to hit some open mics in Dayton and was spewing nothing but anti-religious and vulgar jokes from the stage.  Why could I not MC with that kind of material?  Because they did not appreciate art, god damnit!  That is what I thought.
After I finished the hurling of rocks and cursing of the starlit sky, nothing happened.  No sign.  No great moment of clarity, well not exactly.  I did have a great realization though.  I realized that every “hack” in the world challenged God to show himself or give some kind of sign to prove his existence.  I did not know a lot, but I knew I did not want to be a hack in anything.  So, as I drove home screaming, talking to myself and wondering why I shouldn’t drive me car into a thick light post, it came to me.  It was suddenly clear as crystal.
I would call out Satan.  I would challenge the prince of darkness to show himself to me.  I got home and went to my room.  I threw my Bible and rosary in the closet and sat on my bed.  I offered my soul to the devil.  I mean I really offered it to him.  It was his for the taking.  Because I thought I was quite clever you see.  If the devil showed himself to me, by default I would know that God existed.  I would trick the trickster.  I knew that he would know I was trying to do this, too.  But, if nothing else, the devil should supremely arrogant.  That is what got him his gig in the first place, right?  Right.
In no uncertain terms I told the devil that he could have my soul if he gave me everything I wanted in this mortal life.  Sidenote:  My debut comedy cd was just selected by Punchline Magazine as a top 10 of 2010.  To this day, I do get everything that I want.  Almost.  It has been 9 years or more since that night and I am broke, relatively unknown, broke, and living in my parents’ house.  I am happy, though.  That is important to know here.  I am not complaining at all.  If anything is to be complained about, it is the fact that the devil is not very efficient.  I am not going to give my soul if I have to work my ass off.  That was not part of the deal.
All of this has led me to the conclusion that the devil, Satan, does in fact not exist.  If he does, then he has some explaining to do when he comes a calling for my soul.
Starting last year, I have begun writing to my new favorite imaginary character: Santa Claus.  I wrote a “Dear Santa” letter last year and got everything on that list save a moped.  I will give him a pass on that one.  Why fix something that is not broken?  Exactly.  That is why I am writing a brand new letter this year and will mail it to the North Pole like I did last year’s. 
I found a bunch of old “Dear Santa” letters and read them all on stage at Go Bananas Comedy Club last year and here is that video:

Here is this year’s letter as it is written on paper:
Dear Santa,
I think it is really swell that you delivered on my most of my list last year.  If I remember correctly, I gave you the stipulation that the things on my list did not have to be delivered to me on Christmas, but throughout the year.  You were spot on!  So, thank you so much!  I think that I have been a good man this past year and it is with confidence that I write this year’s letter knowing you will probably give these things to me as well.  Same rule applies as last year:  things I want sometime in the next year.  Here’s my list:
1.  Enough money to move
2.  At least 2 television appearances performing my jokes
3.  Some financial stability
4.  Health Insurance
5.  Moped
6.  VHS to DVD converter
7.  More fun times
8.  Start having a baby
Your Friend,
Ryan Singer
Let’s see if this works!  I am sure it will.  I hope you have a happy holiday season and whether you believe in God, Santa, the devil, or just the power of the universe, put it out there what you want and we can all get on with doing what we love in this short life we are living.
For the record, this past year has easily been the best of my life and 2011 is going to have do some impressive things to top it.  But, having said that, I am looking forward to that challenge.]]>