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Want a 2012 ThoughtsFromParis Holiday Card?

It’s that time of the year – the holidays.

The end of the year where you get excited about spending time with family. Then, through old conditioning and  dysfunction your self-esteem becomes neutralized. Finally, you can’t wait to get the hell out of there. Mom can still make you crazy, and, let’s face it, you’re not exactly running around helping your folks clean up. They want you gone, too.

Over the years I have put a lot of thought into my holiday cards. I’m a little behind now but, just as I did last year, I want to send you one of my cards.

I can’t rely on my friends to send cards. Even the married ones neglect me. I have to consider this as evidence that I may, in fact, be an asshole. There’s no other explanation. It’s okay. I have my cat and my dog to comfort me through the pain.

In the past year this blog has grown so I won’t be able to send a card to everyone. It’s just too damned much work. Also, it’s like a few bucks a card and I don’t like you that much.

Should you wish to receive one of my holiday cards, here’s what you must do…

  1. Like my Facebook page
  2. Follow me on Twitter
  3. Send me an email to dj@thoughtsfromparis.com with your address.
  4. Promise to send me a card!

That’s it. Like your grandmother in the roaring twenties, I’m easy. Last year I made you do a whole bunch of stuff. Let’s face it – we’re older and none of us have that kind of time. Plus, The Walking Dead is on and we need to neglect our children. Well, I don’t have children but I’m happy to neglect yours.

The truth is, when I’m driving over to your house for the potluck party, I scan your Facebook account for any photos where you mention their name. “Oh, right – they had twins! The one with the birthmark on his cheek is Jerry. Birthmark Jerry. Jerry Birthmark. Bertha was a song by Jerry Garcia. That’s it! I got it.”

Here was the 2011 ThoughtsFromParis Holiday Card. Probably my best work ever.

Can’t wait to get your card. If you’re pretty it will go on my wall of Pretty Fans. If you’re unattractive it will still go on my wall of Pretty Fans because I only see the beauty of the soul.

These children need to be taken into protective custody, stat. STAT!

 

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