Monday, Dec. 24, 42 A.B.

My First Annual Christmas Message To The World

Every year about this time, the Pope and the Queen send their annual Christmas messages out into the world.

As far as I know, nobody asks them to do this.  They just do it.

For once in my life, I thought I'd try to be as self-motivated as they are.

After all, we all can use a change of pace at least one day a year.

And if I ever wake up to find that I've been elected Pope or Queen by acclamation, I'll at least have some experience sending an annual message out into the world and won't have to start my new job having to learn every little thing from scratch.

So, without further ado, I hereby unleash my

First Annual Christmas Message To The World



I hope this message finds you happy, safe, and well.

I also hope it finds you satisfied, secure, and healthy.

And I even hope it finds you content, problem-free, and feeling downright peachy.

No need to thank me for this - we kind-hearted people just naturally get off on wishing others all the best.  So, may all the best be yours!  Today and always.  Now and forever.  No matter where you may roam or the Fates may carry you.

And just so there can be no misunderstanding, here in greater specificity is what I'm trying to say:

I hope that if anyone ever sends you an armadillo through the mail, it arrives as fresh, unwilted, and sweet-smelling as the laws of physics allow.

I hope if you have a brother named Bernard, he doesn't mind it too much if you sometimes affectionately refer to him as Bernie.

I hope if the cat ever has your tongue, it doesn't bury it someplace where the neighbor's snotty little dog can dig it up and eat it.

I hope that if you're ever plagued by bad dreams they're at least not bad dreams in which dastardly demons demand that you hand launder dozens of dingy dirigibles before dawn.

I hope if anyone ever gives you a pie carved out of ebony, someone loves you enough to tell you it's ebony before you ruin all your best forks and knives trying to cut yourself a piece.

I hope if you ever go out to dinner on your birthday and the restaurant staff comes over and sings "Happy Birthday" to you, they do such a good job you're left wondering if this might not have been the one time they actually meant it.

I hope if you ever accidentally reformat your car, you unexpectedly discover that you saved the engine on disk and can easily reinstall it so you don't have to buy a new one.

I hope that if you live in a trailer park, all the tornadoes which blow by are no more than knee-high and were sent for entertainment purposes only.

I hope if you're ever invited to participate in a wet T-shirt contest on Christmas Day, you aren't moved to tears by the fact that you packed all your wet T-shirts away for the season in October.

I hope your inner child never gets into a knock-down, drag-out fight with your inner adolescent when you're trying to take a nap.

I hope you realize that if anyone ever stops and asks you to sign a petition to make "Muskrat Love" the new U.S. national anthem, you can sign my name if you don't feel like signing your own.

I hope if anyone ever gives you the Evil Eye they won't object if you decide to take it back to the store and exchange it for a pair of Benevolent Lips.

I hope your favorite scarf never gets caught up in the wheels of commerce during a tour of the economy.

I hope the next time you're tempted to jump over a candlestick you listen to your spouse and hire a trained professional to jump over it for you instead.

I hope the next time something happens which entitles you to feel like you're on Cloud Nine they tell you that Cloud Nine is all booked up and you're automatically upgraded to Cloud Ten at no additional cost.

I hope if you ever find out that Humphrey Bogart and Rod Serling were also born on December 25th, you don't go half-crazy  like I did wondering why no one's ever celebrated the fact by displaying  infant figurines of them in swaddling clothes in their front yard.

I hope if you ever pay an arm and a leg for a suit, you don't get it home and realize that you really only needed half of it.

I hope if you ever hire a dishonest maid the only thing she ever steals is that dead philodendron you've been meaning to get rid of the last few years anyway.

I hope someday you really can see yourself as others see you and it's love at first sight.

I hope 2002 leaves you with a smile so big, you have to mount a couple Rent-a-Faces on the sides of your head to display it properly.

I hope if you ever have to sit through another Christmas Message in your life, it's at least 11.3 times better than this one.

Last            Home            Next

(©Now by DJ Birtcher just because the last time he hung a Christmas Eve entry by the chimney with care instead,  it nonetheless "accidentally" found its way into the fire in the fireplace)