With the holiday season in full swing, I thought I would share the Christmas letter my cousin mailed us last year. We don’t know to expect one this year, but we always like hearing from her. -R. H.
To my knowledge, Christmas letters are not a tradition in our family, and to be clear, I’m not out to make it one. As family traditions go, I know nothing can replace the Holy Day of Obligation to Play Nude Racket Ball. But because I am living away from home, I thought it would be appreciated.
I’m clueless how these are written, but I will start by saying that last Christmas was a good Christmas. I was glad to finally introduce Henry to the family and that everyone was accepting of him. He said he felt welcome, despite Uncle Ben swatting him on the ass with peppermints and calling him “candy ass.” I explained it was our family’s humor. Knowing that made him feel better.
Even after a year of giving thanks, I do not think I can be thankful enough to mom, for gifting me the dildo I wanted. It was my favorite stocking stuffer. The floating pen Holly gave me I keep at my desk and use whenever the printer is out of ink. Grandma and Grandpa gave two bags of unshelled nuts. One is all gone, the other I’ve saved. They were superior quality, as far as I am able to judge, and I sometimes use them to entertain guests.
The weather here has been nice. I told myself I would never get used to six seasons a year and 48-hour periods of darkness, but I was wrong. School has been good and I’m making many new friends. Saturdays, I take community classes to learn brail. I hope to one day achieve my childhood dream of novelizing all Bill Murray’s movies into brail. I think somewhere in the back of her mind, mom thinks I do nutty college things, like skip class, play drinking games, or attend orgiastic picnics. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I’m studious and self-contained. It’s how I earned my nickname, “sword swallower.”
Henry and I welcomed a new edition into our fold. I’m speaking of our ferret, Humbert. It’s been six months and we still don’t know what he eats or where he goes to the bathroom.
You’ll notice what will appear to be an obscene amount of postage attached to this letter.
Your little Amelia
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Various shots of a man doing mundane activitiesaround an office (turning on a coffee maker, waiting for papers toprint, typing on a computer) are shown as music from the first 20seconds of this clip plays.cut to A TITLE CARD that READS "Captain Falcon's brother"Captain Falcon's brother is seen attempting to copy a report but the machine is giving him obvious difficulties.cut to A TITLE CARD that READS "Link's Brother"Link's brother is seen attempting to sell his brother's things on eBay.cut to A TITLE CARD that READS "Mario's Brother"Luigi is seen crying in a bathroom stall.Cut back to Captain Falcon's BrotherCaptain Falcon's brother is growing more and more frustrated with the copier and eventually hits it.Captain Falcon's BrotherFalcon Punch!Cut Back to Link's BrotherLink's BrotherNo bids on the Wand of Gamelon? I know the game sucked, but this is just ridiculous.Cut Back to LuigiLuigi continues to cryLuigiIt's not easy being green.Cut to Link's Brother and lieutenant Falcon approaching one another in a hallwayMR. FALCONI need those reports by the end of the day or you're out of a job.LINK'S BROTHERExcuse me, princess.Scene ends with a title card similar to this one which reads "Super Smash Bros. Bros."INT.OFFICE-DAY. the previous clip had been playing on a projector the wholetime and a man (Sam aran) eagerly awaits the opinion of two businessmen.SAM ARANSo?Businessman 1Listen Mr...SAM ARANAran. Sam AranBUSINESSMAN 1Mr. Aran, that game looks like a piece of shit. Honestly, it looks gayer than Cooking Mama.Businessman 2I don't even understand why Luigi was in it.BUSINESSMAN 1However, we'll cut you a deal. Nintendo will make your game if you get us pictures of your sister naked.SAM ARANDeal!
It was Jairo's birthday last week so I thought I'd post something I wrote for him last year. Happy Womb Emancipation Day, buddy!
Whereas, on the ninth of December, in the year of our Lord two thousand and ten, a proclamation was issued by the C-Boner (aka Mad Money) President of Boobiesville, containing, among other things, the following, to wit:
That on the ninth day of December, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and ninety-one, all baby Jairos held as slaves within any tummies or wombs, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free; and the Executive Government of the Boobiestown, including the military and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such baby Jairos, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons by forcing them back into said wombs.
That the Executive will, on the ninth day of December aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the tummies and parts of tummies, if any, in which the baby Jairos thereof, respectively, shall then be in rebellion against the United States; and the fact that any State, or the people thereof, shall on that day be, in good faith, represented in the Congress of the United States by members chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualified voters of such State shall have participated, shall, in the absence of strong countervailing testimony, be deemed conclusive evidence that such State, and the baby Jairos thereof, are not then in rebellion against the United States. [Side Note: that was all one fucking sentence! What the hell? I replaced the first two “states” with “tummies” and “people” with “baby Jairos” and then called it a day. We’re friends and all but I’m not going to learn bullshit English for you]
Now, therefore I, Funk Master Jammy Jam, President of Boobiescentral, by virtue of the power in me vested as Commander-in-Sexy-Neckerchief, of the Army, Navy, and Sailor Moons of Boobiescity in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and government of the New Boobies (formerly known as New Amsterdam), and as a fit and necessary war measure for suppressing said tummy related entrapments, do, on this ninth day of December, in the year of our Lord two thousand ten, and in accordance with my porpoise so to do pubicly proclaimed for the full period of however long it take to give birth [seven minutes? A fortnight? I literally have NO concept of time], from the day first above mentioned, order and designate as the tummies and parts of tummies wherein the baby Jairos thereof respectively, are this day in rebellion against Boobiesland, the following, to wit:
Arkansass, Titsas, Louboobsiana, (except the Parishes of St. Boobies, Plaquemines [What can I do with this?], Get-her-son, St. Gone-the-next-morning, St. Prince Charles, St. James Asscension, Assumption, Terrebonne [Those last two unaltered], Lafourche-some, “St. Mary!”, St. Mart-in-her, and Or-lean-her-over, including the City of New Or-leans-her-over) Miss-I-pee-peed [Ah… isn’t potty humor reflushing? Anyone?], Ala-wham-bam-straight-to-the-moon, Florida? I barely know her!, Georgia? I barely know her!, South Carolina? I barely know her!, North Carolina? I barely know her!, and Virgin?-yeah!, (except the forty-eight counties designated as West Virgin?-yeah!, and also the counties of Sexley, Assomac, North-hand-job, Elizabeth City [I draw the line at making sexual puns out of my mother’s name], Pork, Princess Hand Job, and Norfuck, including the cities of Norfuck and Puts-in-mouth), and which excepted parts, are for the present, left precisely as if this proclamation were not issued.
And by the power of greyskull [How come my computer says this isn’t a word?], and for the porpoise aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as baby Jairos within said designated tummies, and parts of tummies, are, and henceforward shall be free; and that the Executive government of the Boobiesmunicipality, including the military, naval, and Pokemans authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said baby Jairos.
And I hereby enjoin upon the baby Jairos so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence and if they reeeeaaaally want to; and I recommend to them that, in all cases when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages (or steal!)
And I further declare and make known [make blown! Zing!], that such baby Jairos of suitable condition, will be received into the armed service of the Boobiessettlement to garrison forts, positions [teehee], stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service [teehee].
And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of Boobiessomething to be affixed.
Done at the City of The Internet, this ninth day of December, in the year of our Lord two thousand eight hundred and ten.
By the President: C-Dawg
Jairo Portillo, Secretary of Getting’ Shit Done (Also the Interior)
Jairo Portillo, Secretary of Getting’ Shit Done (Also the Interior)