Merry Christmas everyone!! I still haven't sent our Christmas cards out, but as long as they're postmarked in 2006 it's okay right. Everyone else seems to be lagging too, I received about 20 cards the day before Christmas.
One of my New Year's resolutions is to be a nicer person. So I also have some letters to send out, before the year ends. This may take a few posts, if I have to get it all out of my system by December 31st.
Dear Neighborhoodlums,
I'm sorry I threw the Krazy Glue tube you were feeding to my dogs at you. I'm sorry it wasn't a large rock and that the wind threw off my aim.
Dear VW,
Geo and I will be boycotting your cars, forever. All this is despite your very clever advertising campaigns. The guy running and launching himself into the shopping cart before it hits his car is priceless. Your "My Fast" commercials are also funny and have sent me to Ebay more than once to check out prices on my own personal little fast. Even your more somber commercials with the car accidents are good. So why are we boycotting you, do you ask. Did you molest your Boy Scout troop? Drown a sackful of kittens? Rip a hole in the Ozone layer that's larger than Greenland? No, WORSE. You refused to give permission for the VW bug to be used in the Transformers movie coming out next summer, and now Bumblebee will be a Camaro. A fucking Camaro. Bumblebee can't be a goddamn Camaro. Next you'll be saying that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will be twin pintos. I hate you. I hate you and I hope you die.
Dear Johnny Black,
I am boycotting you too, but more for reasons having to do with me taking off my pants in public than anything else. The drunken thought process is so ridiculously simplistic. "I'm hot. Let me just take off my pants on this random street in Newark."
Dear Dewars,
Same goes for you. Good Lord. Also, you taste like ass in the summer.
Dear everyone I ever come into contact with,
Dear People at Geo's Work,
Don't listen to him when he tells you that I wear his clothes to sleep, just to mark my territory with my scent. That is a big lie. I would never be so subtle. Instead, I pee on him while he sleeps. Sorry about the asparagus.
Dear T.O.,
I think you need a few more of those pills. Guess what, when your quarterback throws a perfect pitch and it falls right between your hands and you drop it... that's YOUR fault. That's not his fault for not throwing it to you sooner. That's YOUR fault for completely and utterly failing at what you are paid jillions of dollars to do, and that is catch the ball during a three-hour time slot on Sundays. Or the occasional Monday. Or Saturday. Sometimes a Thursday.
Dear People Who've Been Saying That Tony Romo is The Second Coming Of Joe Montana, Dan Marino, John Elway, Brett Favre, Whatever,
I sure did laugh a lot on Christmas day, picturing your angst. Oh come on, you know it's funny.
Dear Christmas shoppers,
What is it about the holiday season that frazzles you so much? Sure there's extra stress for everyone but do you REALLY have to bump into me, then walk away without so much as an "Excuse me?" Must you pull out of parking spaces without looking? Is it really necessary to push your shopping cart into me, sending me into a display of "Dress-Up Dora" dolls and one misplaced "Elmo Knows Your Name?"
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