Here's a Christmas letter that at least, is more likely to be true (I ripped it off the internet):
Well, we made it through another year. It hasn’t been bad… certainly not wonderful. Here are some highlights:
We are married, still, but just barely. (Thank God for the guest room.) If it wasn’t for that #@!%^&# verdict, and Brad’s parole officer’s — THE B!TCH! — “strong advice” that he not set off alone again, he’d be in Vegas. We see each other as often as necessary, but when you put your mind to it, it doesn’t have to be that much. Kim is at the dogtrack most days, and Brad spends days at a local bar with some of his friends from the “inside.” The kids do surprisingly well as ‘latchkey’ children.
Kim’s job is… well… a job. What the heck do you want? Paradise? She hates it still, but who wouldn’t? She’d quit, but then who’d pay for necessities like cable and the Budweiser? And the nightshift helps with the marital strife.
Brad is “between jobs” again. (Kim says: I think he oughta call a spade a spade and call himself a lazy, good-for-nothin’ piece of …. But if he wants to go with “between opportunities” I guess it’s no skin off my back.)
We tried a couple of vacations, neither of which turned out any good. We tried to go to the Holidome and Jumbo Pool Slide a couple of hundred miles from here. But after about 18 hours of fighting we just called it off, came home and rented some movies.
Then off to see Kim’s family in $#%@$$ Kansas. If we didn’t already feel bad enough about ourselves, Kim’s folks pretty much finished the job. Without our knowledge, the kid’s spent the whole time there in a “adult novelty and Chicago-style-pizza” shop her loser brother runs, and now have a vocabulary you wouldn’t believe. If we weren’t so buzzed on her Dad’s homebrew we would have been really ticked off. And her mom gave us all food poisoning, which at least one of us thinks was done on purpose. At last we “got away.”
Kids are doing ok, I guess. They are still in school, which sorta makes us both proud. Hey! Not everybody is gonna be at the top of the class. Having kids, as you may know, is no picnic. All I can say is that if I have to take another funny-nosed-whining-never-say-thank-you kid to another friggin’ soccer game I’m gonna put a fork in my eye.
School is bull #$@&. Thanks to the principal’s new %#$%@ Health and Fitness campaign, our oldest came home harping on our quitting our Marlboro “habit.” Habit? Heck… those little fire sticks give us joy in a world dead set against it. We’ve paid taxes for years — or at least since we were caught — and I’d ask that ^%$#@$ principal to stop brainwashing our kids against us, thank you very much. Health and fitness in school? Next thing you know they’ll be teaching them socialism and history and cr@p.
Seriously, we are doing well. Surprisingly well. We’re happily married… except when Brad leaves the seat up. Everybody is healthy and content. Kim is working more on writing and less in the law. Brad is still a speaker/magician/comedian. The kids, aged 5, 8 and 10 are healthy and are still cute. We don’t hate soccer (that much).
And we all enjoy having friends like you.
Yours, Kim and Brad Montgomery
