|Photo courtesy of The Crumb Diaries|
To my family: You all are the reason for my therapy and medication. Please see the following bills and talk among yourselves as to who is reimbursing what. Cash preferred. Check okay. No credit cards. Payment in full must be made in some way by 3:00 p.m. as I don't know how many more of these "happy events" my liver can handle.
(Just playin’ a player, Grandma.)
I would tell my monster-in-law, that she's a fucking lazy manipulative cunt and I hope she chokes on her extra-dry disgusting turkey. Oh, and please pass the yams.
(Don’t sugarcoat it. Tell us how you really feel.)
(And both damn sides want to ruin it for you.)
To my misogynistic, uber-religious/hypocrite of a FIL who never shuts up: You are no better than anyone else here, You are not a leader. Leaders don’t beg for handouts to buy dope & video games, so STFU.
(Your forbearance is inspiring. I would have egged their house. Their own son’s birthday? Sixteen Candles, anyone? Come on.)
Guys, I'm bi-sexual. No, I'm not confused. Girls are hot and so are dudes. I'll be in my car eating some pie.
(There was more ranting between the third and fourth sentences, but I made an executive decision.)
(Good. Really. That’s what this is for. No sarcastic.)
(Madness, I tell you. No sarcastic again.)
(My name is Klonnie Chronicles and I approved this message.)
(Seriously. She didn't teach you to chew with your mouth closed.)
(I am going to have some fun with Skank Army. Thank you for that. You guys are a humor writer’s dream.)
(But that is an outstanding PPR - Pie to Person Ratio. Anything close to 1.0 is phenomenal, really.)
(Very thankful I had salmon this year in case this message was from someone I had Thanksgiving dinner with.)