Hey gang,
Lately a nasty rumor has been circulating. A SpaceX flight attendant claims I promised to buy her a horse in return for sexual favors. A horse?!
 
How ridiculously cheap and tawdry. For the record, if I ever wanted to romance an animal lover, I wouldn’t give her any old horse. I’d give her a horse that’s brilliant, outstanding, unique, astonishing. Like me.
 
I’d give her…Mr. Ed.
 
In case you've never seen his 1960’s sitcom: Mr. Ed provides droll advice, keen insights and stock tips to Wilbur, his owner. But whenever someone else comes around, Mr. Ed is smart enough to keep his big lips shut, lest he get sold to a circus or confiscated by a medical research lab.
 
So ladies, remember that I have an inside track with this inimitable equine. Leave your number with my personal assistant. Let’s start horsing around.
Elon 

Hey gang,
Sorry I’ve been out of touch for so long. I’ve been busy launching a fantastic new venture: magic mushrooms!
 
Making psychedelic mushrooms available to everyone on Earth (and soon, in outer space too) is my mission for Elon’s Magic Xshrooms. But getting to that point is another story.
 
These mind-blowing gems grow in soil enriched with plant debris and humus of the tropics and subtropics – and when word got out that I was interested, leasing rates on this land went through the roof.  
 
Just as “It takes money to make money,” it also takes money to make mushrooms. And due to some bad breaks lately, I’m low on liquidity. Can I count on you, Musketeers, to help me out?
 
Give ‘til it hurts
 
If all you can spare is chump change, we’re having a bake sale every weekend. I’ve also set up a 501 (c)(3) charity. For details, contact any of my world headquarters except the one in Dubai. They aren’t keen on the charity concept.
 
If you’re feeling especially generous, buy a brand new Stealth Cybertruck. It’s like a Stealth bomber aircraft, but with much better mileage. Many of these trucks are already zooming around on roads all over America. You haven’t seen them? That’s the point!
 
And for really generous donors, rides on the next SpaceX capsule are 50% off for a limited time only. Same great weightlessness, same awesome bragging rights, at super bargain rates.
 
Thanks to your generosity, I won’t have to hang out at stoplights with a cardboard sign that says “Will work for ketamine.”
 
Much appreciated,
Elon
  
Photo by Leeloo The First 

First off, people, I won’t lie to you. Peace on earth ain’t gonna happen, no matter who puts it on their gift list. Likewise, I won’t bother saying All I want for Christmas is you. I don’t want 99% of you, because you’re boring.
 
And now for the things I do want.
 
My own private island, surrounded by my own private ocean covering as many nautical miles as possible. The island should have a source of potable water and excellent wi-fi reception.
 
Speaking of oceans, you’ve heard that Twitter is financially underwater. Bankruptcy isn’t out of the question. Neither are mass layoffs. OK, so Twitter has only six employees now, and that’s not much of a mass. But I’m already bored with Twitter and moving on to The Next Big Thing. 
 
So I’ve set up my own GoFundMe campaign: Elon’s Twitter Tsunami.
 
And why does the richest man in history need your money? Precisely because I’m super mega outrageously rich and have to keep the momentum going. With $44 billion locked up in Twitter, where can I get my speculation bucks? By looking for spare change lodged between the sofa cushions?
 
So GoFundMe already. Maybe my Next Big Thing will change your life. Or at least change mine.
 
Finally, some really cheap gifts for me if you’re on a tight budget: mittens, hooded parka, snow boots, and thermal underwear (“long johns”). I’ll need these while exploring that Next Big Thing. Can’t go into more detail, since negotiations are still ongoing. Let’s just say I want to own a place that’s blindingly white, extremely cold, and really really REALLY far south.
 
Greatfully yours,
 
Elon