Whenever I get a cheery form Christmas letter from family and friends, recounting a variety of glorious travel and career exploits, my first instinct is to begin composing a parody of the genre. My wife observed this would reveal my true psychological profile (yikes!), but since you have (mostly) tolerated my various inanities over the past year, I decided to share the results anyway.
{parody initiating . . . launch parody}
Dear Friends and Family:
I hope this holiday season finds you well and in good cheer. Things are certainly looking up here, as I managed to extricate myself from Federal prison last week by hocking the house. It was all a setup–the quarter-ton of Canadian OxyCotin in the trunk of the Cadillac, the empty Jack Daniel bottle in my lap, the “Cheney 2016” bumper stickers, the inflammatory Mo Tzu literature littering the back seat, the Twinkies wrappers, all of it.
You all know I prefer Zinfandel, so it was painfully obvious that the COINTELPRO crew only did a cursory background check. What really fries my fat is that I didn’t even rank high enough on the Enemies List to get a quality character assassination–though they did get the Mo Tzu right.