As resident intermediary, I have asked for the same thing for a lot of years, so this year I am not sending my standard letter. Instead, I am going to ask for something entirely different. I will keep it brief.
Truly, I only want one thing, but in order to fulfill my wish, you are going to need a few incarnations of it in that sack of yours. Best bet would be for you to bring an empty one with you, as I am looking for more removal than I am deposits. Think of it as a bottle exchange. You get to take away the empties.
The very first thing I would like you and those deer to take away are the people with the more-than-half empty crania. These people include my hatemailers, the complete census of my government, the customer dissatisfaction teams of every company with whom I do business and my neighbor who insists on allowing his children to ride four-wheelers through my backyard on their way to wherever it is delinquent teenagers go here.
You may need to make more than one trip.
In their place, you are welcome to leave anyone with a vocabulary in excess of 2,000 words or people over the age of 80. Most of them have forgotten more than these people will ever learn, as I continue to be amazed these manage to operate indoor plumbing. I am willing to get one for every ten you take back. On second thought, one for every 100 is probably going to mean more people than I can manage to get to know before my brain is Swiss cheese.
The next load of people I would like for you to remove from my existence are those who have no heart. I am not talking about the spammers who want to love me long time. At least, they are amusing and send some
eye-bleach requiring pretty interesting pictures.
I am talking about those who have never made a decision in their lives. They are eternal victims of their own circumstances and have no other opinion than the one they are assigned with their voter registration cards. The only thing which motivates them is the staff of fear their shepherds use to keep them from baaing in the grocery store check out line.
They are pretty easy to subdue. Just tell them your name is Destiny, and you know the location of their winning lottery ticket. They will instantly know it is the one they bought in 1981 which their mother washed because they left it in a pair of lucky jeans.
In their place, you are welcome to leave one or two people who are responsible for themselves to the point of admitting when their decisions are best qualified as “effin stoopid”. You can two-fer me if these people were left in the last group.
Open the sack wide for the spineless. Darwin never could have predicted the dominant species on the planet in 2012 would be the click monkey, but I feel certain he has turned over in his grave a number of times at the realization humans would survive as invertebrates.
Gary Larson was a genius for inventing the boneless chicken ranch, but I would like to collectively spank all of those responsible for raising the current generations who refuse to stand up for themselves. They kowtow to parents, friends, children, coworkers, bosses, neighbors and complete strangers. Although I recognize them as a driving force behind our sagging economy with their low tolerance for television advertisements, my world would be a better place if they were relocated to, or beneath, the tundra.
In their place, could you leave at least one deaf-mute? I have both deaf and mute in the family, but not in the same body. I would love one person who can neither hear the gossip and peer pressure nor repeat it.
The next cowardly bunch are far more prolific than anyone wants to admit. Despite their shapes, one thing is abundantly evident: They have absolutely no innards. They are as easy to spot as the ones who have horns. With no intestines to process and eliminate food properly, they are utterly full of crap.
It oozes from their lips. Regardless of what they eat, the air they give off is one of superiority. They look down on everyone who is not them. Even when they congregate, they look down on one another.
The biggest tip off is their intolerance of the handicapped. Surely, handicaps are retribution from the creator who made them perfect for crimes of the parents.
To capture them, hand them a backstage pass for an awards show in their honor. It may take them a while to stuff themselves into something she-she for the occasion. It will be worth the wait.
In their place, I would love to have someone who does not look at the body to see the soul. Those of us with intelligence all know the box the package comes in gets thrown away.
I can list a few more empties, but this will be the last group I will ask you to take this year. There is an enormous group of people who have no lives of their own and only exist by meddling in, mucking up or micro-managing someone else’s life. Their insipid advice comes unbidden every time.
The money advice comes while ignoring a collector on the telephone. The relationship advice they got during divorce therapy or court ordered anger management classes. The career advice comes from the brochures in the unemployment office. The parenting advice comes from pamphlets at CPS they read waiting to see the social worker who took their children away. The education advice is a mystery. Most of them never got out of high school, much less got anyone else through elementary school. Alternatively, they graduated on the social promotion program.
Each and every one is an expert in how *I* am doing it wrong. Far be it from me to claim to be perfect, but I have managed to raise my children without slow roasting any of them or any of them needing hypnosis therapy to recover the parts of their childhood I have convinced them did not happen.
If you do not mind, please put them somewhere they can all counsel one another. I realize it could be a possible endless source of methane with which to solve the energy crisis and fuel the ISS for the next decade or more. Please take credit for the idea yourself.
In their place, would you please just leave one person who thinks I have my poop in a group?
Keep warm and safe travels. If your naughty/nice list does not break people into the above groups, I have the addresses of a few thousand. I have a sneaking suspicion your IT elves have the rest. Just ask them to use the super secret azzhat search setting. I have an in with the developer who says it works flawlessly.
Give the missus a kiss and a cuddle. I am sure she is looking forward to the beach next month. Happy Christmas,
What do you really want for the holidays? Is it something which we should already have? Have you had it before? Are you part of my presents from Kris Kringle?
Happy Christmas to you and all those close to you.
© Red Dwyer 2012
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