From the White House on the evening of 10/31/11

 

PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA:  …and then after another round of golf I figure we can go sailing with the girls.

MICHELLE OBAMA:  Do you think it’s wise taking another vacation, Barack?  I mean, it’s been so soon…

OBAMA:  …since I announced we were bringing the troops home?

MICHELLE:  No, so soon since our last vacation.

OBAMA:  Honey, we’ve gone over this time and time again.  I can vacation between now and Christmas and I still won’t come close to George W. Bush’s vacation time in 2005.  Listen, how about if you decide which golf courses I should play?

*DING DONG!*

MICHELLE:  I’ll get it.

(She opens the door and we see a family of four.  The man is holding a toddler girl and the woman is holding hands with a little boy.  All are dressed shabbily.)

MICHELLE:  Barack, look!  We have trick-or-treaters! 

OBAMA:  How nice!  Are you dressed as a hobo family?

MAN:  Actually, we’re the middle class.

WOMAN:  My husband and I have been out of work for over a year.

BOY:  I told my mommy and daddy that you’d be able to help us, President Obama.

GIRL:  We’re hungry.

OBAMA (grabs a plastic pumpkin bowl filled with candy):  How about a Milky Way then?

MICHELLE:  Barack!

OBAMA:  A Kit-Kat?

MAN:  How about a job?

OBAMA:  Listen, I know times are hard.  I get it.  Every time I golfed on my multiple vacations this year I heard it from my caddies.  But I’m working hard to make things better for you.  I just got a bill passed that will help lower your mortgage!

WOMAN:  We lost our house last month.

MAN:  We need jobs, Mr. President.  We need you to stand up to John Boehner and the Republicans.

WOMAN:  We need you to stop touring the country and making speeches…

MAN:  We need you to get the Democrats and Republicans together and get some real work done!

(Pause.)

OBAMA:  Honey, these are the worst trick-or-treaters ever!

MICHELLE:  No, they’re not, dear. 

OBAMA:  What do you mean?

MICHELLE:  I was just informed that there are 5,000 “Occupy Wall Street” protesters headed up the driveway.

OBAMA:  Uh-oh.  We’re gonna need more Snickers.

GIRL:  Can I still have that Kit-Kat?

(ALL look at the little girl and laugh.  Freeze scene and roll end credits.  As credits are rolling, the little girl jumps out of her daddy’s arms and grabs the pumpkin bowl.  She runs off.  Her daddy sees this, looks around, and grabs Obama’s wallet out of his back pocket.  He takes the cash, drops the wallet, grabs his wife and son and runs off.  Obama and Michelle are left, frozen and smiling as the credits continue to roll and the scene fades to black.)

 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 ‘Twas late one Saturday night in Dunboyne, a small town just west of Dublin, when the local police officer spied Seamus McCafferty driving in quite a meandering fashion along the street.  After pulling him over, the police officer asked Seamus if he had been drinking that evening.

“I don’t drink on Friday nights, occifer,” Seamus slurred horribly.

“It’s Saturday, Seamus,” smirked the police officer.

“It is?” asked the thoroughly drunk Seamus.  “I’ll drink ta that!”

At that point Seamus began fumbling with his coat pocket again and took out a bottle of whiskey for the police officer to inspect.  “I dunno how that got in there,” said Seamus.  “But finder’s keepers!”  He dropped the bottle in the car.

Seamus then proceeded to wipe his nose with his sleeve as he continued.  “Iss Saturday night, y’know, occifer,” he said with great effort.  “Me and me lads, we made a stop by the pub, but I only had six or seven pint’s, thass all.”

“But then they had somethin’ called ‘Happy Hour’ and they made us drink these horrible drinks called margos…er…margo…uh…marritas…er…somethin’ with tequila in ‘em!  They were horrible!  I had four…no five of those.  Then I had promised to drive O’Hara, me friend, home and he invited me in.  Well, I had to go in for a couple pints of Guinness.  I really couldn’t be rude, occifer, could I?  Me mum raised me with good manners.  To refuse me friend’s hospitality would be to disrespect the memory of me mum!”

“Your mum’s still alive, Seamus,” sighed the police officer.  “I pulled her over earlier tonight.”

“Right, but her memory’s shot!” said Seamus.  “And I wouldn’t want to disrespect it!  So, after the Guinness I stopped, of course, to get a pint for later…” 

The police officer gave a deep sigh, saying, “Alright, Seamus, that’s enough.  I’ll need you to step out of the vehicle to take a breathalyzer test.”

Indignantly, Seamus replied, “Why?  Don’t you believe me?!”

May Irish hills caress you,

May her lakes and rivers bless you,

May the luck of the Irish enfold you,

May the blessings of St. Patrick behold you.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

Dear Santa,

 

My name is Celia Murphy and I’m sure you won’t receive a letter like this from any other child in the world.  I’m sure you read millions and millions of letters each year, letters from children like me who only write to you asking for toys.  I don’t need any toys, Santa.  They wouldn’t help my brother, Jimmy. All I’m asking for this year is to be granted a wish, Santa.  Just one simple wish.  I wish that you could help my poor little brother, Jimmy.

 

You see, Santa, my brother Jimmy needs some help.  I’m afraid he’s going to die soon…because I believe I may kill him.

 

Now I know he’s only 4 years-old, but that’s no excuse for his idiotic behavior.  I try to place nice with him like my parents ask me to, but I swear to God the kid has A.D.D. or something, the way he frickin’ bounces off the walls!  You’d think he lived on red-dyed candy.  Just the other day, the little brat took my American Girl doll, duct-taped her to the radiator, melted one side of her head, then proceeded to dunk her in the toilet.  Now I ask you…

Uh, excuse me?  Who are you?

JERRY JONES:  I’m Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys!  You can call me Jerry, though some people call me “Skeletor” after my multiple facelifts.

CELIA:  What…what are you doing here?

JJ:  I saw your letter, sweetheart, and thought I’d stop by to see if I, Jerry Jones, could help out.

CELIA:  Didn’t I see you on the sidelines of the Eagles-Cowboys game last night?

JJ:  Yep, that was me, sweetheart.

CELIA:  And before that you were in the owner’s box.

JJ:  Correct again.  I’m Jerry Jones.  I’m everywhere. 

CELIA:  Too bad you weren’t on the field last night covering DeSean Jackson.

JJ:  Sweetheart, I’m here to tell you that I, Jerry Jones, can grant you your wish.  You want your brother to behave?  Let me speak with him.  I’ll offer him $50 million to be a better brother to you. 

CELIA:  Are you (CENSORED) kidding me? 

JJ:  I find that money solves everything.

CELIA:  Except improving the Dallas Cowboys.  Maybe if you could find some linemen that are the size of your ego, maybe then…

JJ:  Listen, sweetheart, I gotta run.  I see a TV camera off in the distance.  You think about my offer now, y’hear?

 

Dear Santa,

 

Sorry for the interruption.  I now have a new Christmas wish.  I wish you could help Jerry Jones find some humility or maybe even a clue because the lousy sonofabitch is ruining my beloved Dallas Cowboys!!!

 

From today’s episode of the hit North Pole soap opera, Guiding Northern Lights:

 

(We see FROSTY THE SNOWMAN lying on a couch beside DR. MADELF, the North Pole’s favorite quack.)

MADELF:  So, what’s troubling you today, Frosty?

FROSTY:  Not sure what it is, Doc.  It’s just that when I wake up in the morning…my…my sheets are soaked!

MADELF:  Sounds like you’re having wet dreams.  Perhaps you’re going through puberty.

FROSTY:  Ain’t that the exit just before Hoboken?

(With melodramatic music in the background, the door flies open.  We see MRS. CLAUS standing in the doorway, dressed rather provocatively.)

FROSTY:  Wow, Mrs. C, you’re dressed pravoca—provac—provolone—er—real nice!

MRS. CLAUS:  Hello……………Frosty.

MADELF:  Mrs. Claus?

MRS. CLAUS:  Don’t be coy with me, Dr. Madelf!  You know my divorce was finalized yesterday!  I am no longer Mrs. Claus!

MADELF:  I still can’t believe it.

MRS. CLAUS:  I left him…for you, Frosty!

FROSTY:  Me?

(MRS. CLAUS throws herself at FROSTY.)

MRS. CLAUS:  Frosty!  Don’t you know how much I love you?  You’re such a jolly, happy soul.  You…with that corncob pipe and that button nose…and those eyes…those eyes!

FROSTY:  You serious?  I thought you had a thing for Rudolph?

MRS. CLAUS:  I’ve had enough of his silly reindeer games.  Let’s run and have some fun before you melt away!

FROSTY:  You don’t have to ask me twice!

(FROSTY picks up MRS. CLAUS who delightfully squeals in his arms.  We hear “thumpety thump thump, thumpety thump thump” from FROSTY.)

MRS. CLAUS:  Listen to that heartbeat of yours!

(FROSTY looks down at his pants.)

FROSTY:  Yeah……….that was my heart.  Sure.

(The camera pans to behind FROSTY and MRS. CLAUS and we now see a disheveled SANTA standing in the doorway.  He’s wearing his red suit and holding what is presumably his sack of toys.  MRS. CLAUS gasps and FROSTY drops her.)

SANTA:  You………..naughty, naughty whore!

MRS. CLAUS:  Back off, Kris!  The divorce is final!  I can see whoever I want!

FROSTY:  Santa…I…

SANTA:  Shut up, snowman.  I’ll deal with you later.  So, Mrs. Claus…

MRS. CLAUS:  That’s not my name anymore!

SANTA:  You left me for this cold-hearted bastard?

FROSTY:  Cold?  This is true.  That is my very make-up.  But, technically, my parents were married.  You see…

(SANTA reaches into his sack and pulls out a blowtorch and lighter.  Within seconds he ignites the blowtorch and points it at FROSTY.)

FROSTY:  Santa!  For the love of…

SANTA:  Get out of here, snowman.  If I see your black coal eyes in the Pole again, I’ll melt your snowballs.

FROSTY:  You don’t have to tell me twice!  (FROSTY bolts.)

SANTA:  So…the ink ain’t even dry on the divorce papers and you’re ring ting ting-a-linging with Frosty, huh?

MRS. CLAUS:  It’s to make me forget…

SANTA:  Forget what?

MRS. CLAUS:  That…that I’m pregnant!

SANTA:  You…what? 

(SANTA drops the blowtorch and takes MRS. CLAUS into his arms.  As MRS. CLAUS hugs him, she eyes DR. MADELF.   With her look and the melodramatic music in the background, MADELF understands.  SANTA is not the father!  Flames from the blowtorch light the drapes and soon the room is ablaze!  SANTA kisses MRS. CLAUS passionately as we FADE TO BLACK.)

 

WHO DID MRS. CLAUS SHIMNEY DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH?  COULD RUDOLPH BE INVOLVED SOMEHOW?  DOES DR. MADELF REALIZE HE’S NAMED AFTER A REALLY GOOD HOLIDAY BEER?  AND SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL IS MRS. CLAUS’ FIRST NAME?  FIND OUT MORE ON THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF GUIDING NORTHERN LIGHTS!

The photo that led to the Claus divorce...

 

The Alston household in January 2010:

DAD:  Ah, let’s all sit here on the couch and relax.

ANNIE:  Can we watch some TV, Mommy?

MOM:  Well, now that the holidays are over I’m thinking it’s a good time to see what needs to be done around the house…

BILLY:  Can we watch the last season of Lost so we’ll be caught up by the season premiere?

MOM:  OK, Billy. 

 

The Alston household in April 2010:

MOM:  I put together a “Spring To Do” list, honey.  I only have 15 items on it.  We should really paint the basement, dear.  The kids have really marked up the walls.

BILLY:  Yeah…like that dark spot on the wall next to the couch didn’t come from Uncle Larry’s sweaty forehead when you guys were playing “tackle charades” last Thanksgiving.

DAD:  Why paint it?  We’re not having any big party anytime soon.  Let’s all sit here on the couch and relax.

ANNIE:  Can we watch American Idol?

 

The Alston household in July 2010:

MOM:  That door threshold going into the garage is really beat up.  Can you replace it?

DAD:  Can’t you see I’m finally relaxing?

MOM:  The back gutter needs to be fixed, we need to clean up the kitchen pantry, the entire side of the house needs weeding and the garage is a mess.  Didn’t you say you were going to put up new shelves in there so we can organize?

ANNIE:  But you said we could watch Glee tonight!

MOM:  As long as we get these things done by Thanksgiving.  You know we’re having 25 people this year.

DAD:  Sit down!  Relax!  It’s July!

 

The Alston household in September 2010:

MOM:  I just printed a “Fall To Do” list.  There are 37 items on the list.  They include the 15 from the “Spring To Do” list.

DAD:  Last I heard Thanksgiving was still two months away.

BILLY:  And Man Vs. Food is on!

ANNIE:  C’mon, Mommy!  Sit down and relax!

DAD:  What’s the rush?

 

The Alston household in November 2010, 11 days before Thanksgiving:

DAD:  If you would stop pestering me, I can finish with this door threshold!

MOM:  You haven’t even started!  And that’s not a door threshold in your hand.  That’s the cupola above the garage!

DAD:  I thought it needed replacing.  Hope it doesn’t rain today.

MOM:  The cupola’s not even on the list!!!  Why would you replace it now??

DAD:  It broke.  (Uncomfortable pause)  It broke when I bumped into it while I was up there blowing the leaves out of the gutters.

MOM:  We don’t have a leafblower!

DAD:  Which is why my lungs are killing me! 

MOM:  And you haven’t even started the basement yet!

DAD:  Basement’s a cinch.  Needs to be painted.  Done deal.

MOM:  Have you moved the furniture to the center of the room?  Have you filled in the 200 nail holes in the trim?  Have you spackled the walls and sanded?  How are you going to finish it in time???

DAD:  Billy and Annie are going to help!

MOM:  Billy just put a hole the size of my fist in the wall trying to move the furniture!

DAD:  So I’ll spackle it!

MOM:  The gutter’s hanging off the back! 

DAD:  I’ll spackle that, too!

MOM:  I still need you to help me repaper the pantry shelves!

DAD:  Don’t even start that project!

MOM:  The shelves are out and I already ripped off the paper!

DAD:  Where’s the spackle?

BILLY:  Dad?  Annie made me spill the paint all over the basement carpet.

DAD:  WHAT?!  How did she make you do that?

BILLY:  She was flicking spackle at me and I tripped.

MOM:  And you’re tracking the paint into the kitchen???  TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF!!!

BILLY:  You should see the hole in the wall.  It’s pretty big.  Ziegfried fit in there easily.

DAD:  You placed your hamster behind the basement drywall????  Are you insane????

BILLY:  He was covered in paint…I didn’t want him walking on the carpet.

MOM:  There’s paint all over the carpet, the pantry is a disaster, the basement is a wreck, I still need to put the Christmas candles in the windows which I haven’t cleaned, we haven’t even raked the leaves in the yard, there are still 37 items on the “Multi-Seasonal To Do List” and we have 25 people coming here for Thanksgiving next week!!!!!!!!!!!!  AND WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD HIMSELF ARE YOU DOING????????????

DAD:  Sitting on the couch.  Relaxing.  It’ll get done.  Thanksgiving isn’t here for another 11 days…

With the Fourth of July weekend approaching, it seemed an appropriate time to take a look at some quotes by one of America’s most celebrated presidents, Thomas Jefferson.  The nation’s third president seemed to have an uncanny glimpse at the future.  Take a look…

 

When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become as corrupt as Europe.
Thomas Jefferson   

The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who are willing to work and give to those who would not. 

Thomas Jefferson

It is incumbent on every generation to pay its own debts as it goes. A principle which if acted on would save one-half the wars of the world. 

Thomas Jefferson   

 

I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of them. 

Thomas Jefferson       

My reading of history convinces me that most bad government results from too much government.

Thomas Jefferson   

 

Any future U.S. president who spends his days writing speeches for the masses rather than actual governing, will be perceived as pompous and aloof.  Americans don’t want empty words from their president, they want action and results.

Thomas Jefferson

 

Someday there will be an actor, a short actor, no more than 5’3”, who will have big teeth and nice hair, and he will be a popular actor among the masses, but one day he will start jumping on couches and talk of worshipping aliens from another planet, and his popularity will sink like Aaron Burr’s after his duel with Hamilton.

Thomas Jefferson

 

In the future I see Americans being able to communicate with one another with something called an internet.  Some future American vice-president will claim that he invented this internet.  This vice-president will be perceived as an arrogant jackass.  Anyhoo, this internet will be seen as a godsend until another jackass invents something called Facebook which will bring down Americans’ work production level as well as their I.Q.

Thomas Jefferson

 

I see many angry people in our beloved city of Philadelphia.  They will be angry at a very fat man and an aloof athlete.  These two individuals will have something to do with a sport Americans will call “football”…even though the rest of the world will call another sport “football” and we’ll call it soccer…don’t ask.  Anyways, back to my prediction…these angry Philadelphians will be very upset at the aloof athlete and fat man because they will play many many games of this “football” and they won’t win any championships…but the fat man and aloof athlete will act like they’re the greatest thing since the internet and won’t understand that all the Philadelphians want is a friggin’ championship!  Or better yet, how about an athlete who knows how to throw a friggin’ football to his friggin’ wide receivers??  Is that too much to ask?  But I see things getting better once the fat man trades the aloof athlete to Washington.  No, really.  To Washington?  Within your own division?  Are you kidding me??

Thomas Jefferson

‘Twas a Saturday night,

And I was driving my Chevy truck,

Speeding through some red lights

And just not giving a darn.

 

Had a fight with my woman,

Said some things I’d later regret,

She threw me outta the house

After I kicked in the TV set.

 

Grabbed a six-pack of beer

And downed them as I sped,

Didn’t care where I turned,

Didn’t care where the road led.

 

Figured I’d get stopped by a cop,

Or crash into a tree,

But what happened next

Was almost downright silly.

 

I saw someone cross the street,

Tried to stop but it was too slick,

Felt the bump under my wheels,

Felt sick to my stomach.

 

I darted out of my truck,

Started to laugh cause it was funny,

That someone I had run over?

None other than the Easter Bunny!

 

He was about three feet long,

And dressed in a tailored suit,

Saw the nearby basket of dyed eggs,

I would’ve said he was even cute.

 

But there was a lot of blood,

And a decent amount of smashed eggs,

And I couldn’t help but notice my tire tracks,

Embedded across his legs.

 

“What the darn?” he cried,

“You were going 100, for goodness sakes!

Didn’t you see me in your headlights?

Couldn’t you have slammed on your brakes?!”

 

“Sorry,” I said,

And I did feel pretty bad.

He looked pretty pathetic lying there,

It made me a little sad.

 

I had run over the Easter Bunny,

I couldn’t believe my bad luck,

I couldn’t help but think to myself,

“What the darn?”

 

I thought of all the little children,

Who would have no eggs to hide this Easter,

No jelly beans, no marshmallow chicks,

No coconut eggs to add fat to their keister.

 

The poor little children,

Who would have no chocolate bunnies, I figure,

Or Cadbury eggs, or peanut butter patties,

Or those speckled robin egg thingamajiggers.

 

No hyper children this Easter,

No rotting teeth, not even one cavity,

When a light bulb appeared above my head,

To let the Easter Bunny live would be a travesty!

 

As he tried to crawl off the road,

I said, “Are you happy with what you do?

Hiding kids’ eggs is one thing,

But your days of adding to their obesity are through!”

 

I looked up and down the highway,

No approaching headlights but I had little time,

I had to do what I had to do,

And no witnesses to this horrific crime.

 

I took out my Bowie knife,

The rabbit, horrified, wondered what I would do,

One quick slice, actually had to do it twice,

Figured it would look nice hung by my rearview.

 

The Easter Bunny screamed bloody murder,

He cried, “You are one sick bastard!”

What could I do?  What could I say?

I do these kinds of things when I’m plastered.

 

Then I hopped back in my truck,

And sped back and forth over the Easter Bunny,

The corners of my mouth crept upward into a smile,

I couldn’t help but laugh cause it was funny!

 

I did feel like a hero,

Saving our children from obesity and teeth rot,

I imagined millions of parents thanking me

For saving the health of their tot.

 

But as I drove home I began to think,

What if what I did was a shame?

What if it’s the parents’ fault kids today are a mess?

What if the parents are to blame?

 

I shrugged as I downed another beer,

And sped through another red light in my truck,

I looked at my new bloody good luck charm (still warm),

And just thought to myself, “What the darn?”

 

 

HAPPY EASTER!

Poor Pat Flanagan was found dead on his barstool in Murphy’s Pub.  Shortly, his friends laid him in a box, nailed it shut and started down the hill into the churchyard.

 

“Poor Paddy,” sniffed Michael O’Shea.  “The good Lord took ‘im well before his time.”

 

“Poor Paddy?” griped Liam Murray.  “Poor us!  That bastard were to buy the next round!”

 

“Ye know,” said Billy MacGowen.  “There are good ships and there are wood ships, ships that sail the sea.  But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be!”

 

“Well said,” said Aidan.  “I’ll miss yeh, Pat!  You were like a brutha t’me!”

 

“Ya feckin’ eejit,” said Michael.  “He were yeh brutha!”

 

“Aye,” sniffed Aidan Flanagan.  “That he were.”

 

As it was a long, sloping path and the mourners were appropriately tipsy, one of the men lurched into the gatepost as they entered the graveyard.  Suddenly a loud knocking came from in the box. Paddy was alive!  They opened the box up and he sat up, wide eyed, and said, “Oo ‘ere stole me pint o’ ale, y’bastards?”

 

The others looked at one another and cried, “It’s a miracle of God!”  They all rejoiced by going back to Murphy’s Pub and downing some more pints.  But later that day, the poor lad died again.  

 

“Bastard still never bought a round!” griped Liam.

 

They bundled him back into his box and made their way down the hill once again.  As before, one of the lads bumped into the gatepost as they entered the graveyard.  Paddy sat up in the coffin with glass in hand and cried, “Oo ‘ere made me spill me pint o’ ale?”  Once again, there was much rejoicing as they all headed back to Murphy’s Pub for more liver damage.  And once again, hours later, Paddy died.  Really died.  Stone cold, Irish scone dead.

 

“And ‘ere I am holding the tab, the lousy welsher,” griped Liam.

 

They bundled him back into his box, and as they huffed and puffed down the hill the next morning, Liam commanded his fellow bearers to start running straight for the gatepost.  “This time,” he griped, “we’ll make sure the bastard buys the first round before he meets his maker fer good!!”

 

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

The latest in Valentine’s Day cards for those men out there who need some help in expressing their romantic feelings.  From The Stupid Cupid Card Company:

 

For the married man

COVER: Honey, you are without a doubt the love of my life!

INSIDE: Too bad I’m still married to my wife. 

 

COVER: Valentine’s Day is for expressing affection, I’ve always said…

INSIDE: And you and I have that special connection, ‘specially in bed!

 

COVER: This feels so good, this feels so right…

INSIDE: …I just wish it didn’t cost me $200 a night!

 

For the married man over 40

COVER: For Valentine’s Day I want to take you to the Falls of Niagra!

INSIDE: And while we’re there, let’s have some fun with Viagra!

 

COVER: Roses are red, daffodils are yellow, you make my heart jiggle like Jell-O!

INSIDE: But tonight I’d like to see a part of you do some jiggling, honey!  And I ain’t talking about your thighs or your heart!

 

For the soon-to-be-divorced man

COVER: On Valentine’s Day I’m thinking of all the special ways you have made my life better…

INSIDE: …and I can’t come up with any.  What’s for dinner?

 

For the math teacher

COVER: For this Valentine’s Day, sweetheart, I’m thinking engagement…

INSIDE: I’d like to engage in a little square root of 4,761!  Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

For the archaeologist

COVER: Happy Valentine’s Day, honey!  I have a bone to pick with you!

INSIDE: (this is a pop-up card…you get the picture)

 

For the politician

COVER: Thanks for sticking with me, dear wife, through the lies, affairs, illegitimate children, raunchy sex tapes, acts of homosexuality and STD’s I unknowingly passed on to you.  The worst is behind us!

INSIDE: And just so you know, that sheep and I are just friends, nothing more. 

 

For the astronomer

COVER: To my fellow female astronomer…with you I’d like to discover new stars and planets!

INSIDE: But I wouldn’t mind starting with the exploration of Uranus!   

 

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

From 2003

THINGS THAT ARE WAY BEYOND OBNOXIOUS

#6-The Annual Holiday Letter From That Family You Haven’t Seen in 12 Years But They Still Feel the Need To Send You A Pompous Letter So That They Can Feel Good About Themselves Because They’re Obviously Insecure And If They Had An Ounce Of Common Sense They Should Realize That We Stopped Giving a Rat’s Ass About Them And Their Inflated Egos 12 Years Ago!

 

From the Kosterman Holiday Letter, Madison, WI:

            Hello everyone!

            It’s that time of year again!

           Can you believe another year has already come and gone?  Wow, what a great year 2003 has been for the Kosterman family!  Let’s start with Doug who had a marvelous year at work!  Thanks to his promotion to Senior CFO Account Executive Vice-President, Doug is now making more money than ever!  We grew tired of the 2003 Mercedes CLK350 Cabriolet and bought a 2004 BMW 650i convertible (See enclosed digital photo.  Notice my earrings, ladies?  Those aren’t diamonique!  Doug is holding a BlackBerry Pearl in his left hand.)  

           

            I have had a wonderful, stupendous year as well!  Yes, I have.  Friends and family, I am now the president of the Berber County School Board!  Doug and the kids are so proud of me.  I can’t thank my hundreds of peachy keen marvelous neighbors who supported me and helped with the never-ending campaign.  Gosh.  It certainly is a dream-come-true for me.  I can’t wait to help our #1-ranked-in-the-state school district become even more number one’er!  Ha! Ha!  My kids are watching me type this and they’re rolling their laser vision corrected eyes at me.  (They still think I’m a geek!) J

 

            We have put on a 3,000 square foot addition on the back of the house this past summer.  (See enclosed digital photo.)  This was Doug’s dream.  He and the boys love playing on the $5,000 pool table.  Personally, I think it was just a little too expensive for a pool table, but if my boys are happy, I’m even happier!  Yes, I am.  This addition, along with the new kitchen last year, has definitely made this a home for the ages!

 

            Now on to the kids.  Matt, now 22, is still tall and blond and as handsome as ever with his square jaw and straight white teeth!  He just graduated from the University of Wisconsin with a 4.0 GPA in Chemistry.  He just started a perfect job with a Madison pharmaceutical company and is only months away from discovering the cure for cancer!  Yes, he is.  Matt is dating an astonishing young woman named Stacey whom he met at college!  The two have been dating for nearly a year now and are even talking about the ”M” word already!  Cross your fingers! 

 

            Michelle is now 17 and has really blossomed into a beautiful young woman!  Let’s hope the boys in her senior class at Berber County High all have short leashes!  Ha! Ha!  Melissa is president of her senior class, president of the Debate Club, First Flute in the Berber County High School Band, president of the I.Q. Team, president of the President’s Club, Editor-In-Chief of the high school newspaper, Senior Prom Queen, Captain of the swim team, and she spends her weekends feeding the poor through our local parish.  We’re so proud of her!  She is now considering scholarships from Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton, Columbia, Brown and Duke.  We’ll keep you posted on this monumental decision!

 

            Mark is now 14 and is just loving freshman year at Berber County High!  Mark is president of his freshman class and he plays high school basketball, football, baseball, soccer, lacrosse and even has time for chess!  Mark is so handsome with his sparkling blue eyes and dimples and we just can’t keep track of all his girlfriends!

 

            And our little darling blessing Melissa just turned 3 last month.  Can you believe she’s already reading on a third grade level and taking AP classes?  Yes, she is.  Granted, Doug and I were a little surprised 3 years ago, but what a true blessing Melissa is!  Crawling at 3 months, potty trained at 6 months, walking at 7 months, portraying the baby Jesus in a speaking role at 10 months, and now this!  The school district is already considering her for the GATE program (that’s Gifted and Talented, in case you didn’t know.)  Such a blessing! 

 

            Vacation #1 this year was in Walt Disney World in Orlando!  Yes, it was!  (See enclosed digital photo of all of us with Mickey and Minnie!)  Every day was peachy keen sunny and a pleasant 75 degrees.  You know how cold it can be up here in Madison, so we enjoyed the sun.  But don’t get me wrong!  It’s a wonderful cold here in Wisconsin!

 

            Vacation #2 was spent on a private island in the Caribbean.  It’s not found on any map.  (See enclosed digital photo of moi in my bikini!  Sorry, ladies!  They’re still real!  Can you believe it?)  Doug is thinking of purchasing the island in 2004.  If we do buy it, we’d love to have all of you down for a weekend!  Wouldn’t that be grand?

 

            Well, that just about does it for the Kosterman family for 2003!  We hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and we hope you all have perfect, superb lives like we do!  We are truly blessed.  May God truly bless you as He has truly blessed us which leaves me feeling so blessed.  Beyond blessed.  God bless!

           

            Love and Happiness,

            The Kosterman Family

 

From the journal of Wendy Kosterman, 47:

 

December 26, 2003  

         Another Christmas has come and gone.  Lots of fun and presents but once again I can’t understand why no one seems to send us a Christmas card!!!  L