Ye Olde Christmas Letter

Dear Friends and Relatives,

It’s time once again to send out my annual Christmas letter to update you on the comings and goings of the Lazarus McMurder clan during 2015. It’s been such an exciting year.

The children will all be home this Christmas! Joey made bail after selling his collection of Serial Killer Cards. I must say that we’re very proud of his initiative, and the entire family has agreed to be supportive. During the festivities, no one will mention the GPS tracker on his ankle.

Our daughter, Clementine is making amazing progress with her physical therapy. Her fractured hip was the talk of the hospital since most of the orthopedic surgeons so rarely see such an injury on a nineteen year-old. While the medical bills are a bit daunting, her employer has graciously assured our attorney that he will cover all of them. Apparently, he’s certain that he would lose a lawsuit should Clementine wish to file one. I think this is very correct and proper. After all, it should be the employer’s responsibility to make certain that there is no hand cream build-up on the stripper pole.

Our second daughter, little Evelyn is now fourteen and heavily entrenched in the expected teen rebellion. She no longer wishes to be called Evelyn or Evie, but prefers that we call her by her non-slave name, Evil. Frankly, I just take this in stride, but her father is having a difficult time accepting a daughter who is so fanatically Goth. He doesn’t mind the horribly dark eye makeup so much, but I suspect her spiked dog collar and other accessories annoy him a great deal. I got this impression when he came home from work and hung his coat on her nose ring.

Speaking of hubby, Lazarus is doing wonderfully this year. He received a three-paygrade promotion to assistant manager at Walk-In Mart after catching the manager embezzling. Fortunately, I have managed to convince Old Laz that we should consider this a merit raise since it was indeed his quick thinking that allowed him to get a Xerox of the cooked books. For myself, I’m just happy that he’s such a good provider.

Quick update on my in-laws: Thankfully, they’re still dead.

My mom and dad are doing wonderfully. Dad’s dementia has progressed to the point that he no longer cares that mom is boffing his old partner…and a few other businesses and civic organizations. I can at least be happy that at mom’s age, nymphomania is considered merely eccentric, and she tells me that her Senior’s Yoga class is a great help in keeping her limber.

At the ripe old age of eighty-eight, frail and feeble Uncle Mortimer is still disgustingly wealthy and a childless bachelor, thank God. (No gold-digger bimbo story to report this year.) The entire family thought that our windfall had finally arrived when he used the can of floor wax that we gave him for his birthday and his cane slipped. However, he took a header into his open refrigerator and an overly-large Christmas pudding. The EMTs said that his major injury was temporary hearing loss caused by an inconveniently deposited brandied raisin. I guess that’s a blessing since we love him dearly, and we want him to enjoy this year’s holiday gift, a ticket for a free bungee jump.

Lastly, I’m happy to report that I have made major progress this year. I’ve completely healed from that unfortunate Spandex incident last February, and I am once again teaching full-time since Unabomber Elementary declined to prosecute. I’ve also gotten some very positive feedback from a few feelers at the community college level, so I may soon be moving up to students who can genuinely appreciate innovative corporal punishment.

As usual, please skip this year’s Christmas gifts and send cash.

Note to Harriot Milken-Heifer: Food Stamps are not cash!

Merry, Merry!!

Delightfully yours,

Wanda B. McMurder

PS: I hope you enjoyed this bit of fun!

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