2008
I woke up this morning with a splitting headache. I walked downstairs and found a stripper underneath my tree. Don't worry... she's dead. Fortunately the snow is really soft because I only have one of those little portable shovels. I don't know how she got there or how I got these scratch marks on my face and arms. Great, I wake up in the morning and instead of presents, I get a chore? Maybe instead of coal, Santa is putting dead strippers under trees? Oh... the wonders, mystery, and majesty of the Christmas Season!
P.S. Thanks to everyone who puts me in their bulk "Merry Christmas" texts. It makes me feel good that you clicked a check box next to my name and included me in the same text you sent 80 other people. Really heart felt. It's like spam from friends.
Oh, and how insecure are people in their lives that they send these self adoring and aggrandizing letters. You can tell people have been waiting all year for an excuse to write a letter to everyone telling the world how awesome their lives are. Do people know that they've become cliches? Are they comfortable with that knowledge?
"John... why are you late getting to my house for Christmas brunch?"
"Sorry, Mom, I got caught up writing dead stripper jokes."
goochout.
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