2004: A Modest Christmas Newsletter
Its that time again--Christmas Newsletter Time.
I started the year with a short trip to the Congo, where I was able to extract secret compounds that aid in musical terminal-pain management. This will have great application in elevators and malls all across our great country. I also gained secrets and insights, accompanied by the rumbling of drums, from sage elders who passed on their wisdom by flickering firelight: Buy low, sell high. Word.
When I got back to the Good Old USA, I was on hand to give wise advice and counsel to troubled souls as part of my community service requirements following the railroading I got in the 9th District Court.
You don't remember? I was sued by militant vegans for my black-powder hunting expedition where I killed the last of the Giant Free-Range Tofurkeys. All that are left now are the tiny ones, who lead a short, pathetic life haunted by mortal fear, but I digress.
My community service involved helping Rush Limbaugh cope with sobriety once his OxyContin wore off. This took up a good portion of the 400 hours of my sentence. Praise the Lord and pass the Romilar!
In the midst of that crisis and turmoil my phone rang. Omar, my massive, enigmatic, turbaned, batman murmured "Mr Gibson, line one."
Taking the phone well in hand I turned to the unfolding drama. The conundrum outlined by Mr Gibson hinged on whether or not Jesus Christ had a mullet. It took me less than 10 seconds to definitively answer that question [Yes, and blame the Jews]. I secured 2-1/2 points on the back end in addition to my usual fee.
Once that was in the bag, I flew, on a youthful whim, to Baghdad on a conveniently routed C-17 Don had arranged for me. Our arrival was heralded by a colorful display of light and fire in the night sky! On my arrival to the Green Zone, where I was escorted to see my old friend Paul Bremer. A celebratory RPG landed outside, blowing out a window and introducing a fine layer of dust over our trout almondine.
"So, whaddya think?" was his characteristically optimistic query.
I was hard pressed to contradict him. The building shook under a cluster of mortar rounds. "Keep up the good work, there's a medal in for you somewhere!" I grunted between forkloads of cheesecake. Before leaving I was able to press an invoice into his hand and make the next cab back to Baghdad International. Our send-off was as robust as the arrival!
Various outside commercial interests also did well this year!
- Sales of my Red Tide Loofahs went through the roof following Bill O'Reilly's enthusiastic endorsements, both on-air and in court.
- I designed and patented the Cornice Combover, recently acquired for the exclusive use of Donald Trump.
- Launched the new Paris Hilton Cartoon Informercial Network
- The Supermodel Winning Lotto Ticket Delivery Service has already delivered over 100 Winning Lottery Tickets in the Northeast alone. This wildly popular operation features slinky supermodels delivering winning lotto tickets in their signature vintage Hy-Step delivery vans. For no additional charge they linger and Do The Nasty.
- I got to the final rounds in "American Idol", "Survivor", and "700 Club". In each case I triumphed with a show-stopping version of "Mandy".
- Took the Bush Girls to Taffy Pull hosted by Jose Cuervo.
- I am so blessed!
I would be remiss in not mentioning the contributions made by my mistresses and our various demon spawn, but that awaits another epistolary that will more completely showcase their staggering achievements.
So here's wishing you, your heirs and descendants, plaintiffs and assigns the best Free-range Pre-Canaanite Saturnalia and Celebration your satellite dish can offer you, and the sure fact that I will burden you again in 2005!
I am and remain,
yr Humboldt Obliviant idiom Savant
Erasmus Binkster Rfp, SoQ, AMf
Hellmouth Amalgamated PolySci