Holiday letters...stop the insanity!

We all have at least one person in our otherwise normal lives that sends these bad boys out. Some folks know how to word them in an interesting fashion, keeping my attention, and entertaining me with the ups and downs of their lives. I appreciate these letters as they keep me up to date with people I may not do a bang up job of keeping in touch with the other 364 days of the year. However, and I say this with the utmost seriousness, there are others who should step away from the laptop, grab a pen, and write out a regular fucking Christmas card. I'll send you some red and green pens, keep it festive. To open one of these and just know that you are going to start to dry heave, makes the whole holiday start to smell like crap. Christmas is a bit crappy for me anyway since my kid no longer believes in Santa...ok, so she's 19, but you get my point. Being a household of adults takes away some of the magic. Enough whining. Back to the topic at hand, which is those fucking, ridiculous holiday letters that only serve to be a bragging list of how faaaabulous your life and family are. Here's my rendition of what a holiday letter sounds like:

Dearest Friends, Colleagues, People I've Met Once and Consider My New BFFs, and Everyone in my Outdated Phone Book,

This year has been EXTRAORDINARY for the Fullofshitski Family! It's been a wild ride of good fortune and it's time for me to shove it down your throat, while you are wondering how you'll pay for all those lovely gifts you bought on credit, tucked neatly under your fake ass tree. Let me start by telling you all about my wonderful husband! Jim has been promoted six times this year...complete with the massive salary bumps along the way. We are fucking rolling in it and we couldn't be prouder of his accomplishments. The extra cash doesn't hurt, either. I now throw him a blow job once or twice a week to show my undying gratitude for the ability to maintain my mani/pedis and frosted hair. It's gross, but hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. He's working 75 hour weeks and leaves me with plenty of time to shag the pool boy. Which is fine since his secretary spends more time on her knees than in her chair doing actual work.

Moving on to our lovely and perfect children. Taylor is on the honor roll, dean's list, and playing five sports, all while holding down a full time job. How does she do it? Must be the coke habit. I hear it gives a fantastic amount of energy. Thank the Lord for Jim's latest promotion, cocaine can get pricey. But when you factor in the fact that she helps out by selling crack to her equally wealthy friends at The Waldorfia Bentley School for the Gifted and Rich, it doesn't seem so challenging. What an enterprising and helpful girl we've raised. She's sure to go far!

Preston is our boy wonder. There isn't anything he can't do. He just returned from helping the homeless in Jamaica, Queens. The hobos greatly appreciated his donations of the Help Wanted sections of the newspaper along with his recommendation to get off your ass and get a job. He's so thoughtful. Brings a tear to my eye just writing this to all of you. He's been accepted into every Ivy League school on full scholarship, and now has to make the challenging decision of which one to grace with his presence. Any school would be lucky to have him. He's sitting with a map right now, calculating the distance from home to each of them and laughing maniacally...I have no idea why. Such a good boy!

Little Frances Philipa is our pride and joy. She's only 8 and has already mastered four languages, plays the concert piano, and tutors the unfortunate in calculus. What a wonderful little girl we have on our hands. Slim and pretty, always smiling. She truly is a gift from God. Her modeling career has really taken off since she became anorexic. The contracts keep coming in, left and right. Thin is in!!!

My days are filled with so much selfless work. I visit the elderly and read to them every other day. They seem to really enjoy Fifty Shades of Grey. The looks on their faces are priceless, although I'm not sure what that long, irritating beeping sound is while I am reading to them or why the nurses come running in and rush me out. I am reading to these very lonely folks, thank you. Anyway, when I am not providing joy to the old folks, I am very busy playing tennis with my instructor, Hans. He says I have very good form and a fantastic ass. He should know, he holds it tightly every class and after class when he teaches me more about balls. This year I have done quite a bit of baking for my children's respective schools' functions. The rave reviews and sincere thanks mean so much to me. I don't even mind the work I put into it. After a bottle of wine and a pot brownie, I have no idea how much time has passed.

I hope this letter finds you and yours doing at least half as well as we are doing. Which, as you and I both know, is impossible. But as a good Christian wife and mother, it is my duty to wish only the best for you.

Cheers,
Sterling Quinn and the Fullofshitski Family

You are probably thinking that I am being a bitch. Why yes, I am. And nothing grates on my ass cheeks more than receiving a letter that leaves out the truth behind the lies. This one expresses both and I think you have to agree, it's far more palatable than the ones you'll be opening this Christmas. I can't be wrong. Are you friggin kidding me right now???