Its about Christmas card time again, and if your dad married into a huge irish-catholic family, like mine did, its also the time of year that we all receive those extra-special christmas newsletters.

There are a lot of Holiday annoyances:

1) Putting up decorations
2) Watching said decorations blow away in the wind because you were too lazy to put the spike in the ground.
3) Writing cards
4) Not being allowed to murder family members
5) Those damned photo-cards with pictures of children and pets on them - losers.
6) The holiday family-booster newsletter

To name a few.

The newsletter is... well... to put it as my cynical dad puts it, "just because you can do it, doesn't mean you should do it." You see, in many cases, its not your brother or sister that sends the newsletter... its the estranged, red-headed, 6th cousin from Wyoming who decides that you, and every other member of their family tree, and perhaps a few people from someone else's family tree would really like to know about Uncle Joe's new ice skates.

Let me make this clear: I don't give a fuck about Uncle Joe's new Ice Skates. Seriously.

Most of the time, I don't even have a clue who the people the newsletter talks about are. If I've even met them it was at one of those massive family get-togethers, like a wedding, where somehow, every black-sheep manages to weasel their way onto the guest list to partake in the open bar (I said it was an IRISH-catholic family, right?). These are usually the sorts of situations that lead me and my sister to sit huddled in the fetal position in some corner of the banquet hall, promising each other that we aren't really related to these people.

None-the-less, people always find some way to make a big deal about their lame existences. For example, did you know that everything is cooler and more exciting if you put multiple exclamation points after it!!!! Whoah! a four-pointer!!!

The newsletter always leaves out the interesting accomplishments, like how my hillbilly 8th cousin Merle chugged two kegs of Budweiser at his wedding this past fall ( to my 9th cousin Layla -- named after the song, of course).

Finally, new rule: If you are an accountant, don't tell me ANYTHING about your life. Not in a newsletter, hell, don't even write a short note inside the card. You are a boring person.

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This is another reminder that CollegeBlows.com is going abroad in January to Edinburgh Scotland. Because I can.
If any American college students would like to help out by providing the normal US tales of collegiate stupidity to this site for at least a semester, then send a short sample of what you can do over to Brian[at]CollegeBlows.com.

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