What I want for Christmas

I would never tell my parents, because they would be dumb enough to get this shit for me, what with "loving me" and all:

Knife
Inuit Knife
6 foot bookshelf
That crazy 3d art I saw at the warehouse district (the blue one with stairs)
That crazy 3d art I saw on 5th street (with the "shock" of orange")
Playboy Bartender's Guide
12-gauge shotgun of reputable quality (havn't done the research on this one)
pipe
15-20 cigar humidor
backpacking 2-man tent
Clipless Pedals + Shoes for my bike
Pair of sunglasses

That list is really old, with a couple of new additions. Having had every imaginable need in Maslow's lower few levels met for the majority of my life I get disgusted when I think about asking for presents. And in reality, I will, slowly, acquire all those things myself as excess builds. But to save any self-hatred I just say "underwear" when my dad asks what I want for Christmas.