From the journal of Debbie Sadler, 34, of Leesburg, VA on 2/1/10:

 

Serves me right, what happened to me today.  I shouldn’t have broken my promise.

Just last night Jim said to me, “Debbie, you need to stop with the daily coffee run.  What’s that costing you each day?”

“$2.00,” I said, rounding it off.

“You’re rounding it off,” said Jim, knowing me all too well.  “How much is it?”

“$2.65,” I said without missing a beat.  My large, chocolate-hazelnut flavored coffee from Cathy’s Coffee Corner across from my office.  Had the price memorized.  “It’s not that expensive,” I said.  “Not as ridiculous as Starbucks.”

“That’s $13.25 a week,” said Jim.  “$53 a month.  You know we need to cut back, honey.”

I promised him I wouldn’t go to Cathy’s anymore.  I would stick with the office coffee.  Yecch.

So that was last night.  I swore to myself this morning that I would not go to Cathy’s Coffee Corner today.  I had the office coffee this morning.  Tasted like liquid tree bark. 

By 2PM I was hitting my afternoon lull and I desperately needed a pick-me-up.  I looked in my wallet and saw a $10 bill.  I immediately thought of Jim and my promise and I closed my wallet.

But wait!  I knew I had change in one of my desk drawers!  I usually paid for my chocolate-hazelnut coffee at Cathy’s with three ones so I would always get 35 cents in change!  Sometimes I’d throw the change in my pocketbook, sometimes in my desk!

I ripped my top drawer open and found a couple quarters, some dimes and some nickels!  This was free money!  This money could be used for my coffee…for my large chocolate-hazelnut coffee today!

I grabbed $2.65 in change and saw that there was only one dime and seven pennies remaining.  Yes, this was indeed free money.  No breaking promises with my hubby since my coffee was pretty much on the house! 

I grabbed my coat and darted outside.  There, caddy-corner from my office, sat Cathy’s Coffee Corner…teasing me…tempting me…beckoning me…I could even smell the coffee from here.

I started to walk down the sidewalk towards the streetlight when I heard a woman say, “Miss?  Miss?”  I looked across the street and saw an elderly woman standing beside a parking meter and what I assumed was her car.  Tanya, the town’s ubiquitous militant meter maid, was approaching fast from down the street.  “Miss?” the woman asked.  “Could I borrow a quarter from you?  I need some more time on my meter and I’m out of change.  I’m so sorry to have to ask…”

Tanya was approaching quickly.  She had pad and pen in hand.  I looked at Cathy’s Coffee Corner…it was still beckoning.  I looked at the poor helpless woman across the street.  I looked at Tanya’s grinning face.  Good Samaritan or good coffee?  A quarter to this lady and her meter and I’d be out one pick-me-up!  My free, unbroken-promised coffee!

I quickly ran across the street, pulled a quarter out of my pocket, and handed it to the woman.  “Bless you,” she said as she placed it in the meter slot and gave the knob a twist.  Tanya was too late.  The woman now had an extra twenty minutes.

I felt good for about five seconds when I saw the flashing lights.  A Leesburg police car pulled up beside the old woman’s car and a cop sprang out.  He took out a pad and pen as he approached…me!

“Can I help you, officer?” I asked.

“Just caught you jaywalking,” said the cop.  “Can I see some identification?”

Now did that old woman pipe up and explain that I crossed the street to give her a quarter to prevent her from getting a ticket?  No!  She was walking into Cathy’s Coffee Corner!!

So there you have it!  Jim was right!  Coffee has become way too expensive!  Hell…here I go and quit my daily coffee run and yet it still cost me fifty bucks today!!!

Email Q&A with Joe Cockiavalli, the know-it-all proprietor and bartender of Joe Cock’s in Brooklyn, NY:

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I hear the Mets have some good-looking pitching prospects this year!  What do you think?

Eddie G.

 

Dear Eddie,

I’d trade them all for one ugly player who can actually throw!

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

What do you think is the leading cause of fear in our society today?

Nancy R.

 

Dear Nancy,

24/7 cable news networks.

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I think I’ve fallen in love with one of my co-workers but she won’t give me the time of day!  What should I do?

Peter S.

 

Dear Peter,

Buy yourself a watch. 

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

What is the first sign of senility?

Joan H.

 

Dear Joan,

Having to ask that question.

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

My wife is getting really frustrated with me in bed because…well…I’m just not “lasting” long enough.  Anything I can do to help myself run the full marathon?

Dan B.

 

Dear Dan,

I get this question quite often, so don’t feel so bad.  You should do what I do when I find myself in this delicate situation…don’t care!  Nah, I’m just kidding.  Look, your wife will come around eventually…and usually on her own.  J

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I’ve been gaining a ton of weight lately and I have no idea how this is happening!  I’ve been exercising more and cutting down on my drinking but I’m five pounds heavier than I was a month ago!  Any advice?

Loretta T.

 

Dear Loretta,

Maybe you’re using your refrigerator light as a night light? 

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

My wife says I’m always wrong and she’s always right.  Is there a chance I can be wrong all of the time?

Jim B.

 

Dear Jim,

Sure…if you’re a meteorologist.

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I have really fallen on hard times.  I’m a sex addict and I’ve ruined my marriage by cheating on my wonderful, beautiful wife with countless women!  I’ve checked into a sex rehab.  Do you think this will stop my addiction with sex and save my marriage?

Tommy Z.

 

Dear Tommy,

Brilliant move checking into a sex rehab.  There you’ll be staying with other women who are also addicted to sex.  It’s like an alcoholic moving into my bar to deal with his disease.  Oh, but here’s the difference…being addicted to alcohol is actually a disease.  Claiming that you cheated on your wife because you’re “addicted” to sex is a lousy excuse. 

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I fear for my husband’s soul.  He’s a scoundrel, a liar and a cheat.  What’s the best way to reach his heart?

Debbie P.

 

Dear Debbie,

Through his teeth.

Joe Cockiavalli

 

Dear Joe Cock,

I’m bored with my drinking and I’d like to try something new.  I’m thinking something cold and loaded with rum.  What do you recommend?

Tom H.

 

Dear Tom,

Stop by the bar any Friday night.  I’ll introduce you to my wife.

Joe Cockiavalli

Special thanks to Worthington Home Health Care of Bloomington, MN:

 

IN THEORY

RECRUITER:  Good day, sir.  I am a recruiter for Worthington Home Health Care calling in regards to Dave Peterson.  We are looking to hire Mr. Peterson and need to verify previous employment with your company.

REFERENCE:  I’d be happy to provide a business reference for Mr. Peterson.

RECRUITER:  How do you know Mr. Peterson?  How long have you known him?  Would you please share his clinical skills?  Would you rate his skills as excellent, average, below average, needs improvement?  Where would you say Mr. Peterson needed development?  Why did he leave your company?  Would you rehire him?

REFERENCE:  He was my employee.  I’ve known him for seven years.  He is an excellent therapist.  I can’t think of one thing where he needs development…you’re hiring a superb therapist.  He’s leaving us to join your company because you’re offering better hours and a higher salary and yes, I’d rehire him in a New York minute.

REFERENCE:  Thank you for your time, sir.  Have a great day!

 

IN REALITY

RECRUITER:  Good day, sir.  I am a recruiter for Worthington Home Health Care calling in regards to Dave Peterson.  We are looking to hire Mr. Peterson and need to verify previous employment with your company.

REFERENCE:  I’m sorry.  I can’t give out that information.

RECRUITER:  You can’t verify that Mr. Peterson worked there?

REFERENCE:  No.  It’s against company policy.  Let me put you through to Human Resources.

RECRUITER:  Isn’t Human Resources part of your company? 

REFERENCE:  Yes, of course.

RECRUITER:  But you just said it’s against company policy to verify employment.

REFERENCE:  I can’t verify employment.  But HR can.

RECRUITER:  Oh.  So Mr. Peterson worked for you for seven years…seven long productive years…and you can simply dismiss those years without a care?  Don’t you think Mr. Peterson put you down as a business reference so that you can verify what a hard-working therapist he was for your company?

REFERENCE:  I’d like to, but I can’t.

RECRUITER:  So by saying you’d like to, you’re admitting he worked there?

REFERENCE:  Uh…

RECRUITER:  Did Dave burn a bridge with you guys?

REFERENCE:  No, Dave didn’t…oh my God!  You tricked me!  You got me to admit that I even know Dave!

RECRUITER:  What’s the big deal?  If the guy worked for you and did a good job, why can’t you help him get his next job by spending 60 seconds of your time giving him a good reference?

REFERENCE:  Dave?  Dave who?  Let me give you HR’s number.  If you would please fax your form to them and in 72 hours they can verify…

RECRUITER:  Just the dates, sir.  Just confirm when he worked there.  Please.  You know HR will give me the runaround.

REFERENCE (whispers):  Don’t you understand?  HR is probably listening right now!  Please…I have a family to provide for.  I need this job!  Don’t…make…me say anything about Dave!  Please!!!  (Sirens are suddenly heard through the RECRUITER’s phone.)  See?  SEE?!  Now it’s too late!  They heard me!  They heard me!  God help me!

GRAVELY VOICE IN BACKGROUND:  Hang up the phone, Employee 614.  Hang up the phone now.

REFERENCE:  I’m sorry!  PLEASE!!!  I was giving him HR’s extension, I swear!!!

(Sound of chainsaw being cranked up.)

VOICE:  Too late, Employee 614!  You know you are never to give a reference! 

REFERENCE:  But Dave was nice!  He did a good job!  What’s the harm…?

(Sound of chainsaw.)

REFERENCE:  No!  NO!  NOOOOOOO!!!!

(Call abruptly ends.)

RECRUITER:  Sounded like a positive reference there.  One down, one to go!

Signs that the kids of today are being raised to grow up like a bunch of weenies:

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

Five inches of snow or less?  You had school.

TODAY:

A slight coating of the white stuff.  Two hour delay.  Two inches?  No school.  Already teaching kids that it doesn’t take much to bail out.

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We walked to school.  Seriously.  Or if you lived at least two miles away, you took the bus.

TODAY:

You live more than three blocks away?  Don’t worry!  Mommy or Daddy will drive you! 

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We treated our elders with respect.

TODAY:

Kids are raised to believe they’re the new messiah so they have no time to respect anyone around them.  And who can blame them?  Thousands of photos and constant video of everything they do from their first crap to their first hit in little league; their parents constantly talking about how special they are to most people who don’t give a shit…kids today think they really are something!

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We ate peanut butter, peanuts, anything with nuts in it.  We were nuts about nuts!

TODAY:

God forbid you eat anything with nuts!  If you don’t have a peanut allergy, and you probably do, the kid next to you could have an allergy and just by sitting near you he could die!

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We played with all the kids in the neighborhood at the park or creek miles away from home.  Mom said to be home by the time the sun started to go down.

TODAY:

Today’s “Helicopter Parents” love to hover over their kids!  Paranoid parents calling other paranoid parents to set up stupid “play dates” because God forbid the kids go outside and run around the neighborhood!  Guess what?  It’s the same number of kids getting abducted today as forty years ago.  We just didn’t have all of this incessant 24/7 media breathing down our necks back then…making us even more paranoid!

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

Obesity wasn’t a problem because we played outside!  We ran around!

TODAY:

Xbox, Playstation, Wii, Nintendo DS…lots of little fat asses.

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We got spanked.  So what?  We misbehaved, we got spanked, we cried a little, we learned from it.  We moved on.

TODAY:

Kids don’t learn anything from their mistakes because if they do something wrong they get a “timeout”.  Gotta stand in the corner or in my room for two minutes because I poured last night’s leftovers in the toilet and flushed.  Flooded the bathroom and hallway.  Uh-oh!  Mommy’s giving me a timeout!  Sweet!  While I’m alone in my bedroom I’ll think about my next devious act!

 

WHEN I WAS A KID:

We watched The Three Stooges, the Muppet Show, Bugs Bunny, Tom & Jerry, Roadrunner cartoons and other stuff filled with hilarious slapstick violence.  We laughed at how docile and lame Mr. Rogers was!  You see, we understood that what we were watching was satire and shouldn’t be mimicked.

TODAY:

Kids are brought up on Thomas the Tank Engine, Barney, Dora the Explorer and the mindless Teletubbies because if they watch any of the shows above they may turn out to be murderers or abducters because Moe used to poke Curley in the eyes!  Or kids will just be violent and filled with rage because an anvil fell on the Coyote’s head!  Are you kidding me?  One minute of Barney and I want to throw a brick at my TV!

From the humble abode of Rob Carroll, 41, of West Chester, PA the evening of 1/4/10:

 

ROB:  OK, the kiddies are asleep, Sue’s making their school lunches for tomorrow, and I’m sitting here in the office talking to myself.  Time to write the first Seek Therapy for 2010…and…my God…I can’t come up with anything!  My first writer’s block ever!  I can’t believe it!

(There is a KNOCK on the front door.)

ROB:  Hey!  Scat!  Get off my front door, you Knock!

KNOCK:  Sorry.  (The KNOCK exits.)

(We hear the front doorbell ring.  ROB answers the door.)

ROB:  Wow, it’s Tiger Woods!  What are you doing here in West Chester?

TIGER:  I need to seek therapy, Rob.  I checked out your website, thought it sucked which tells me you suck which is why I’m here.  (He winks.)  Who’s my caddy?

ROB:  Cool.  Honey?  Tiger Woods is here!

SUE (from the kitchen):  I’m making lunches!

ROB:  C’mon in.

TIGER:  Mind if my 17 whores join me?

ROB:  Ah.  So those 17 women are whores and you’re not, huh?  Interesting.  Er, no.  I don’t mind.  (TIGER and his women enter.)  Honey?  Tiger’s nice girlfriends are with him!

SUE (from the kitchen/annoyed):  Lunches!

 (The doorbell rings.  ROB answers.)

ROB:  Look at this!  It’s Sarah Palin!

PALIN:  Wouldn’t yah know I was driving in the area and I thought I’d stop in tah ask for directions.

ROB:  Where do you want to go?

PALIN:  The White House.  Preferably in three years.

ROB:  Honey?  Sarah Palin’s here and she’s delusional!

PALIN:  Nah.  Just lost.

ROB:  Have a seat in the living room.  Tiger Woods is in there with his whores.

(The doorbell rings.  ROB answers.)

ROB:  Wow!  It’s Donovan McNabb and…what is that??

MCNABB:  It’s the Philadelphia Eagles head coach Andy Reid.

ROB:  What’s wrong with him??

MCNABB:  His head is buried up his ass.  It’s been that way ever since we landed in Dallas last weekend.  We were hoping you would know a good proctologist.

ROB:  Uh…let me look online.

MCNABB:  Here, use my Blackberry.  (He throws it at ROB’s feet.)

ROB:  I guess it doesn’t matter if it’s a football or not, huh?  Heh, heh. 

MCNABB:  Are you…making fun…of my throwing?  *SQUISH!!!*

ROB:  Honey?  Andy Reid and Donovan McNabb are here!  Donovan must be double jointed because he just plunged his head up his own ass.

SUE (from the kitchen):  Why?  Does he think he’s on a football field?

TIGER:  Mind if I call a few women?  It ain’t a party until I got at least two dozen broads couch dancing for me at once.

ROB:  No!  No more whores.  It’s a school night.

(The doorbell rings.  ROB answers.)

ROB:  President Obama!

OBAMA:  Good evening, my fellow American.  Do you mind if I ask your thoughts on my new Afghanistan strategy?

ROB:  You mean your “Escalating In Order to Withdrawal” strategy to send in more troops with a definitive exit date of July 2011 when our troops will come home and the Taliban will simply overrun the country at that point?

OBAMA:  Yeah, that one.  Ooh!  Is that Tiger Woods with his whores?!

ROB:  Yeah, but the one you’re pointing to is Sarah Palin.  Honey?  President Obama, Sarah Palin, Donovan McNabb, Andy Reid, Tiger Woods and his whores are all in the living room!

SUE (from the kitchen):  Did you write your Seek Therapy yet for this week?

ROB:  No.  I can’t come up with any ideas!

(There is another KNOCK on the front door.)

ROB:  It’s another Knock!  Get the hell off my front door!

KNOCK:  Sorry.  Just thought I’d try to help save this issue…

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

A collection of celebrities’ letters to Santa from their childhood:

 

Michael Jackson, 1982

Dear Santa,

My friends and family say you’re not real, eee heeeeeee!  But I still believe in you!  When people say that to me, it’s hurtful, because I believe!  J’mon!  J’mon!  I love you, Santa, and all I want for Christmas is for my new album, Thriller, to be the biggest selling album of all time!  Ja know! Ja know!  And I’d like to have Gary Coleman over for a sleepover.  Eeee heeeeeeee!  Ja know!  Ja know it!  J’mon!

Love,

Michael, age 24

 

Dear Michael,

The good news is, you’re not on my naughty list.  The bad news is you’re on my “Freakishly Weird” list.  That means I won’t be anywhere near your house on Christmas Eve.  Ja know it.

Santa

 

Kate Gosselin, 1983

Dear Santa,

My name is Kate and someday I hope to brow-beat my husband into the ground in front of millions of people and exploit my children for a ton of cash so that I can afford a tummy tuck and a non-white trash haircut.

Love,

Kate, age 8

 

Dear Kate,

8-years-old, huh?  Remember that number 8, Kate.  Eight.  Don’t worry…you’ll get what’s coming to ya!

Santa

 

Suri Cruise, 2009

Dear Santa,

My name is Suri Cruise and for Christmas this year I want a new daddy!  Do you know my daddy?  He’s about an inch taller than me and he spends all day talking about Klingons and Transformers who supposedly live in the heavens above us.  But he is a good actor because in public he acts like he likes women.  But he has a creepy smile and he makes mommy cry all day because he won’t let her out of his site.  Please give me another daddy, Santa, because my current daddy is really weird.

Love,

Suri, age 3

 

Dear Suri,

I’m sorry I can’t bring you another daddy, sweetheart.  Your father is a very powerful ex-elf of mine and his Scientologists have blocked me from ever entering Hollywood.  You’re on your own.

Santa

 

Billy Mays, 1965

DEAR SANTA!

MY NAME IS BILLY MAYS AND FOR CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR I WANT TO GET YOU SOMETHING!!!  YOU GOT STAINS IN YOUR RED SUIT?  HOW ABOUT SOME OXI-CLEAN?  KNOCK THOSE STAINS RIGHT OUT!  SPILLED SOME MILK ON YOUR COUNTERTOP WHILE EATING THOSE COOKIES??!!  JUST SPRAY SOME ORANGE GLO ON THERE TO CLEAN IT RIGHT UP!!!!!!!!  KABOOM!

BILLY MAYS!!!  AGE 7!!!!

 

Dear Billy,

Cool your jets, dude.  Chill.  No one should get that (CENSORED) excited over a (CENSORED) cleanser.

Santa

 

Sarah Palin, 1976

Dear Santa Claus,

Don’tcha know you’re like the coolest guy in the whole world?  Yah!  For Christmas this year I want to be elected class president but I will need to quit if it interferes with my cheerleading practices.  And my beauty pagents.  And hunting season.  Yah.  Don’tcha think I would make a great class president, Santa?

In God We Trust,

Sarah, age 12

 

Dear Sarah,

Yah.  As long as you don’t quit.  And be careful during hunting season.  My reindeer travel south to your area for vacation.  If one of their heads ends up hanging above your mantel, forget Naughty…you’re going on my (CENSORED) list for life.

Santa

 

Tiger Woods, 1984

Dear Santa,

My name is Tiger Woods and for Christmas I’d like to become a famous golfer when I get older.  I know golf will be my best sport because my favorite thing in the world is to put my balls in the hole.

Love,

Tiger, age 8

 

Dear Tiger,

Just remember…the name of the game is to make sure the balls get in the hole…not your club!

Santa

My sleigh ain't the only thing that's loaded!

Transcript from the police interview with Santa Claus’ next door neighbors at the North Pole, LUDVIK and INGVIL EGGEBRAATEN.  They were the first to arrive to the rescue of Santa Claus during the early morning hours of 12/7/09 when Santa crashed his sleigh into a tree on his property.  OFFICER DIDRIK FISKE conducted the interview hours later with the Eggebraatens in the living room of their home.

 

FISKE:  So would you care to tell me exactly what you folks heard and saw early this morning?

LUDVIK:  I’ll start, hon.  Well, Officer, the wife and I were having a good night sleep when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

FISKE:  That’s great.  I overheard you telling your neighbors something about a clatter?  Can we skip to that?

INGVIL:  That’s right.  When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter, we sprang from our bed to see what was the matter! 

LUDVIK:  We looked outside and at the end of his driveway was Santa Claus and his smashed up sleigh.

FISKE:  So what did you do?  And please, cut the rhyming crap.

INGVIL:  We threw on our slippers and robes and ran outside.  I could tell he had crashed into a tree and possibly the fire hydrant. 

LUDVIK:  That was when we noticed that Mrs. Claus was out there with him!

FISKE:  In the sleigh?

LUDVIK:  No…she was waving a yule log in the air and acting all crazy like someone had stolen her meds. 

INGVIL:  We figured she was trying to pry Santa out of his sleigh with the yule log or something.  That’s when she turned to us and cried, “Please help me!  Please help Santa!”

LUDVIK:  After that, she wasn’t very verbal for awhile.  She was actually kind of quiet, like in shock.  And Santa had some blood on his lip and he smelled like egg nog.

FISKE:  Was Santa unconscious?

INGVIL:  He was…and he was…uh…snoring.

FISKE:  Santa was snoring?

LUDVIK:  Yeah.  Some other neighbors in the cul-de-sac were outside at this point, and with their help we got Santa out of that sleigh and onto the driveway.  Someone called 9-1-1 and we heard the sirens off in the distance.

INGVIL:  I asked Mrs. Claus what had happened and she said something like, “That fat bastard!  This is the absolute last time he’ll cheat on me!”

FISKE:  Mrs. Claus said that?!

LUDVIK:  Yeah, and then she swung the yule log again and smashed it into Santa’s face.  Santa woke up at that point and spit out some blood and broken teeth.  “What the hell’s the matter with you, Mrs. Claus?!” he cried.  “I went through your Blackberry, St. Prick!” Mrs. Claus screamed.  “You’re cheating on me with 12 women???”  “Am not!” yelled Santa.  “Two of them are elves!”  And then she swung at him again.

FISKE:  Damn!

INGVIL:  Mrs. Claus then held up a Blackberry and cried out, “Look, everyone!  My husband is an adulterer!  He even has the women in 3 categories:  Naughty, Nice and Ho-Ho-Ho’s!”

FISKE:  What happened next?

LUDVIK:  Mrs. Claus threw the log at Santa’s head and ran up the driveway, screaming.  Santa turned to us and started apologizing.  “Mrs. Claus hasn’t been herself lately,” he said.  “She’s taking the HRT and just has a case of the hormone crankies.”  And that’s when you officers arrived.

INGVIL:  No surprise here, Officer Fiske.  Everyone knew Santa’s had himself some flings.  He sent out Christmas cards to his girlfriends last year…photos of him lying naked on his stomach just wearing his hat and black boots.  And the caption read, “Just roll me over, honey, ‘cause I’m laying on your present!”

LUDVIK:  And he’s had some quick flings every Christmas Eve.  He’s bragged about it during the boys’ poker nights.  “I can’t imagine how many illegitimates I got around the world,” he slurred one time.  He then unzipped his red pants, whipped out his bad boy and rubbed it under my nose like a good cigar.  “I never wear no stockings on my Little St. Nick!  Ho!  Ho!  Ho!” 

INGVIL:  Santa’s a male whore, Officer.  It’s why he’s always so jolly. 

LUDVIK:  We feel bad for Mrs. Claus.

FISKE:  Because of Santa’s infidelity?

LUDVIK:  No, because none of us know her first name.

Arthur Crotchety, 84, resides in Coventry, RI.  Each year, Mr. Crotchety likes to reconnect with his neighbors through his holiday greeting cards.  Some of his neighbors were kind enough to share his latest cards with Seek Therapy:

 

Season’s Greetings, Mortons!

How many times do I have to tell you to keep your snot-rag, beaver-toothed kids off my lawn?? 

Mr. Crotchety

 

John and Debbie,

You have been my neighbors for nearly 20 years and you have yet to invite me over for even a drink!  Please keep it that way!

Merry Christmas!

Mr. Crotchety

 

Dear Walter Flemming,

What a stupid color you picked to paint your garage with!  I thank the Good Lord every day you don’t live across the street from me!

Happy Holidays!

Mr. Crotchety

 

Hey Oswald!

You think maybe you could get your stupid dog to stop barking every once in awhile?!  And I know it’s your dog’s doody on my front lawn!  I served under Patton in WWII…I don’t have to take your crap!

Happy Holidays!

Mr. Crotchety

 

Season’s Greetings, Sadlers!

Tell your kids to stop ringing my doorbell trying to sell me all of their school fundraising crap!  Isn’t it enough that a man my age still has to pay school taxes for your stupid kids?

Mr. Crotchety

 

Season’s Greetings, Billy Wanker!

I know you’re the one who stole my Sunday paper last week!  Poor daddy lost his job so he can’t afford the paper anymore, huh?  Tell your daddy to spend more time looking for a job than drinking alone in the garage!

Mr. Crotchety

 

Hey Barksdale!

Could ya maybe squeeze in one more stupid inflatable snowman on your lawn?  Your front yard looks like Candy Land or whatever that new game these rotten kids play these days!  Clean it up or I’m calling the township! 

Happy Holidays!

Mr. Crotchety

 

Merry Christmas, Ethan Weinstein!

That’s right, Weinstein!  I wrote Merry Christmas, not Happy Hanukkah!  What are ya gonna do about it?

Mr. Crotchety

 

Merry Christmas, Ethel!

I was very sorry to hear that John had passed away this past summer.  I remember how kind you were to me when Mrs. Crotchety finally kicked the bucket back in ’05.  If you’re done with your grieving, why not come over here sometime?  I bought a couple of those stupid looking Snugglie things off the TV and thought maybe you and I could play some Bingo in ‘em or something?  If not, then the hell with ya and stay off my lawn!

Mr. Crotchety

From the first Thanksgiving in Plymouth, MA in the autumn of 1621:

 

WILLIAM BRADFORD:  Well, the table’s set!

MILES STANDISH:  Say, what kind of music should we listen to?

BRADFORD:  How about Plymouth Rock?  (Laugh track heard here.)

STANDISH:  Here come Massasoit and the other Wampanoag Indians!  Sweet!  Let’s eat!

MASSASOIT:  How!

BRADFORD:  How what?

MASSASOIT:  How ya doin’?  (Laugh track heard here.)

SQUANTO:  What was that?

STANDISH:  What was what?

SQUANTO:  That fake sounding laughter.  It seemed to come from nowhere yet it was everywhere.

STANDISH:  Sounds like you’re talking about my wife’s ass!  (Laugh track heard here.)

SQUANTO:  There it is again!

STANDISH:  Relax, Tonto.  Don’t get your feathers in a bunch.

SQUANTO:  That’s Squanto, Kemo Sahbee.  (Laugh track heard here.)

MASSASOIT:  Don’t mind him.  He’s from Cleveland.  Here…we brought the green bean casserole.  I hope there are enough crunchy onion thingies on it.

STANDISH:  It looks black on the bottom.

MASSASOIT:  It’s an Indian burn. 

BRADFORD:  Say, Massasoit!  Why do you wear so many feathers there on your head?

MASSASOIT:  So I can keep my wigwam.  (Laugh track heard here.)

SOME PILGRIM BABE:  Welcome, friends!  We’ll be having venison stuffed with duck.  You’d think it was chicken because the whole thing looks rather fowl.

BRADFORD:  We call it “Doe, a Duck.”

STANDISH:  A female duck?  Ha, ha, ha!  It was prepared by Ray under a drop of golden sun.  (Laugh track heard here.)

MASSASOIT:  What kind of Thanksgiving dinner is this?  Where’s the turkey, Miles?  Don’t you know anything about Thanksgiving dinners?  Where’s the mashed potatoes? Where’s the cranberry sauce?  Where’s the pumpkin pie?

THAT SAME PILGRIM BABE:  Uh…we have some other types of waterfowl.  We also have samp…it’s a kind of corn-base oatmeal.  I looked that up on Wikipedia.

BRADFORD:  If you don’t like that we have some popcorn, toast and jelly beans for ya’s over here.  (Laugh track heard here.)

SQUANTO:  That laughter is so annoying.  I feel like I’m on an episode of M*A*S*H.

MASSASOIT:  All of the green jelly beans are gone!  This sucks squash.  What time is the Dallas game on?

STANDISH:  Ah, I get it.  Cowboys and Indians.

MASSASOIT:  Actually, we’d like to be called Native Americans.  You know, since we were here first.

BRADFORD:  Even though you guys have nothing to do with those cow worshipping folks in India, we’d still like to acknowledge our initial mistake and continue to call you Indians until it’s no longer politically correct.

MASSASOIT:  Well, then we’d like to call you folks donkeys because we have you confused with jackasses.

SQUANTO:  Sir…getting back to being thankful…these Pilgrims are thankful for what’s happened to them and we should be thankful, too.  We should just be thankful for being together.  I think that’s what they mean by ‘Thanksgiving’.

MASSASOIT:  Whatever.  Throw me a beer before I scalp one of these jackasses.

(Laugh track heard here.  SQUANTO grabs a cold one from the cooler and tosses it.  As MASSASOIT is about to catch it, freeze scene and roll end credits.  No one moves except for SQUANTO who looks around for the source of laughter.  He is also terrified of the backward words that seem to scroll up from the ground and disappear into the sky.)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!