Dear Santa,

I know I've left it to the last minute.

And I've missed the last post.

But I've heard you're magic and, let's face it, given you have to travel to the homes of every single child in every single country around the globe in one night, I'm sure you have the skill to take on board an extra wee little letter.

I'm writing on behalf of Glasgow.

From the serious to the very silly, the city needs a few things.

And I'm not sure we can expect the city council to provide all of them.

Not without a bit of reindeer dust and some North Pole sleight of hand.

Now, I know there's a fair few folk around Glasgow who will be waking up tomorrow morning with a lump of coal in the toe of their stocking.

I can probably point them out for you, if that's quicker than going through the Naughty Or Nice List.

First up, can you please ensure that every single member of the rowdy family who ruined the GFT's showing of It's A Wonderful Life on Friday night get nothing when they wake up on Christmas Day.



Apart from maybe a wee note from yourself, or even better, from the renowned voice of reason Mrs Claus, explaining that they might like to try the pantomime next year.

If they're looking for somewhere with audience interaction, the chance to sing along (loudly and badly) and a simpler plot that won't need several people explaining what's happening on screen to each other all at the same time, then the Pavilion will have just what they need.

In fact, Santa, can you just make that a massive lump of coal for everyone who faces the temptation to talk, use their mobile phone, check Facebook on an iPad, or take selfies with the flash on while in the cinema?

Because I can't take another year of it and if one more person uses a two hour film to sit next to me and scroll through Twitter, I'm going to end up on the front page of the Glasgow Times having been arrested.

Actually, while I'm on a roll, coal for everyone who stops dead at the top of an escalator or in a doorframe when they're shopping.

Anyone who walks backwards without looking first.

Basically, coal for anyone who's not considerate of other people while in public spaces. Or anywhere else.

Sort it out.

Now, Santa, you set a good example for a subject that is going to be a hot topic in our city in 2020.

The environment.

With your sleigh pulled by nine reindeer, you're really leading the way in green, renewable energy.

In fact, that's something to put forward at the major United Nations climate change summit we're hosting next year.

With the natural gases produced by Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and pals, it wouldn't quite help to hit the zero emissions target if we replaced our cars with reindeer drawn sleds.

But it's got to be better than the amount of twin turbo diesel engines polluting about the city.

And it would also solve the problem of boy racers roaring down Renfield Street at night.

Sleigh races might be no less dangerous but at least they would be silent.

And Santa, listen, no offence, but excess consumerism is really terrible for the environment so my next plea for Glasgow is to help the city cut down on waste.

Maybe you could bring back the tradition of a tangerine in the toe of a stocking and not encourage the children to have so much unnecessary stuff.

While some kids are very lucky to have lots of presents and love from lots of adults at Christmas, others have nothing.

Five years of Conservative rule isn't going to help us there, especially not in Glasgow where we're really feeling the affects of austerity.

We're struggling with drug deaths and rough sleepers out on the streets.

The numbers of people using foodbanks is soaring.

So if there's anything you could do while you're down the chimney at 10 Downing Street, that would be grand.

I'm not suggesting anything terrible... just, you know, some magic dust sprinkled over the Prime Minister while he's sleeping.

I'll let you choose the dust.

I know you're a busy chap, Santa, but we're really hoping that this Christmas will be merry... and that 2020 will be bright.

So go on, leave us some treats in our stocking.

We'll be nice all year, promise.