Category Christmas Letters

Brown collar worker Omar Lutfey here with yet another end of the year summary of the wildly important and utterly trivial events of my life. I leave it up to you, the reader, to determine which is which. In January…

No time for the usual introduction as I smash through the fourth wall like the Kool-Aid Man after his latest parole hearing! WILLFUL DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY– OH YEAH! You! Yes YOU! The one reading this letter– somehow I can communicate…

If I ever end up murdered from a shattered "Best In Show" DVD being lodged in my neck and/or eye sockets, it was TOTALLY my wife.

The lesson I taught my kids is the old man isn't going to go down in laser tag without a fight.

Doggie heaven is great-- the toys are the best and everyone loves it when you fart.

I think the best approach is to assume the quality of the instructions is adequate at best and for a completely different type of product in the worst case.

Countless people– well, OK, maybe three or four– have been asking about what happened to my 2015 Christmas Letter. Was I abducted by aliens who erased my memories? Perhaps, but I have no way of knowing. Was I too lazy…

I believe it was JP Morgan who once said “You don’t rise to the top by jumping in the kiddie pool.” That, or I just made it up a few moments ago. Fact checking isn’t a strong point in my…

The older you get, the harder it is to be a prime number.

Once the race started my craft went about ten feet into the water at which point something happened that could best be described as “sudden massive critical widespread structural failures.”