My Christmas newsletter:
I am so blessed to live in the flattest place on Earth. When my dog ran away, I watched him for three days until he became entangled in tumbleweeds. When I picked him up on my scooter, he was too exhausted to resist being strapped to the luggage rack for the trip back for a joyous reunion with my cats.
I took an exotic 24-mile trip to Elida. In this charming, Republican hamlet, you can dine 24-7 on authentic eastern New Mexico cuisine from their Allsup's. (Before arriving, I strongly advise removing Obama decals.)
Other nearby attractions include dodging tumbleweeds and antelopes, watching Lesser Prairie Chickens blown off course by wind-farm turbines, and seasonal Democrat-trapping.
In April I forgot my twin sister's birthday.
I told Uncle Earl I wanted a tablet, and he got me a Big Chief.
I finally tried Rogaine, but it only worked in my armpits.
Debbie Boone rejected my Christmas song because I rhymed drummer boy with summer toy.
This year I finally matured enough to learn what is truly important, so you will not be receiving superficial, materialistic gifts.
Hopefully, you will treasure the love brimming from this newsletter far more than such meaningless trinkets as computer tablets, smart phones, concert tickets or gift cards.
However, I don't want to deny you the joy of giving, so I will accept these from you.
P.S. I wear medium, but not polyester.
Contact Wendel Sloan at: email@example.com