#PTSOTLretrochristmas begins! Because what better captures the spirit of Christmas than re-posting old blog entries from last season so you can fuck off more efficiently all week? Our old buddy D. Jean Mustard is still getting lots of Christmas cards he doesn’t want. Here’s why:
Sort of a theme here to Christmas week. That’s what we call branding, and according to the boss’ last memo, we have to keep doing it so bear with us. That said, at what point did all of my friends, and I do mean literally all of them, start sending Christmas cards? Up until about age twenty-whatever I don’t think I got a single fucking card except from my aunt and my grandma. Now my box is overflowing with this bullshit. Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but Christmas cards are a bit like a high five. Not something you want to do, but you don’t want your friend to feel like an asshole either. Sort of a gut-check on your List detector.
So, here I am filling out Christmas cards for no reason other than obligation. Well, my lady is handling… Wait a goddamned second! Since we all got domesticated, that’s when this bullshit train started!
I guess my buddy Dave who once shit out of a 3rd floor window in college is in a way genuinely wishing me Christmas cheer, but most likely it’s because his wife told him he’d better do it and like it. Anyway, my bird is awesome and totally taking one for the team here, but at the same time she’s taking an active role in perpetuating this bullshit. Guess we’re even there. Hope you like our card. We don’t have any bratty kids, but just picture the kids we’ll never have doing something really cute and throw that memory right on your brain’s fridge where it can sit for a few weeks before tossing it out. Merry Christmas!