Donna and Herb’s 2016 Holiday News Letter

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Holly Jolly Yuletide Tidings Friends and Neighbors!

What a whirlwind 2016 has been, right? It’s Christmas already! Why, it seems like just last week I was coloring eggs for Sunday school at St. Mary’s Church. But these kids today are so ungrateful! I colored all those eggs and then I found a bunch of them smashed in my mailbox. My Dress Barn catalogue was ruined!

So this year Herb and I felt the entrepreneurial urge once again. They always say, “Figure out what you love and get paid for it.” Well, Herb just loves golf. (He also loves sitting in his big chair in front of the TV with his pants unzipped, but no one’s going to pay for that.) So we decided to open up a mini golf course!

Our theme was Presidential Putt Putt. We got so creative! The putting green was “The Great Democracy”. We had a windmill hole with George Washington chopping the cherry tree. A George Bush hole behind a bush. The Nixon hole was tricky, hidden under a water-logged gate. Beverages were available at the Betty Ford Center. Herb sold hot dogs from a pushcart called “Bill Clinton’s Flame-Broiled Wiener Wagon”. My Herb pushed that cart all around, so Cheryl Pillchuck’s 6-year-old niece called it “The Pushy”. We started calling it that too. After all, “Bill Clinton’s Flame-Broiled Wiener Wagon” is quite a mouthful.

It was all so much fun until one day Todd Thompson said he didn’t feel so good. Then Betty Yarmouth chimed in. Within minutes Todd barfed behind the Bush bush and Betty pooped in Jimmy Carter’s bag of peanuts. Then everyone else got sick too. Let’s just say that Abe Lincoln’s luxurious beard did not remain unscathed. And I don’t even want to discuss the violation of Jackie Kennedy’s pillbox hat.

People were defecating and retching all over our Great Democracy!

With so much vomit and fecal matter flying, no one noticed that The Pushy had come loose and was rolling down the hill towards the interstate, with Cheryl’s niece on top of it! (Kids are so quick these days! I don’t know how she climbed up there.) Suddenly Herb shouted, Grab her by the pushy! Grab her by the pushy!”

I hot-footed it past Reagan’s Rodeo and rescued both The Pushy and Cheryl’s niece. But Herb’s reputation could not be rescued. I won’t tell you what people thought he said. It’s disgusting and inappropriate for this family Christmas letter.

We traced this intestinal devastation back to the cut-rate wieners Herb had purchased. Although the package boasted that they were “The Greatest Wieners” they were actually full of salmonella, rat hair and toenails. Can you believe it? Is there no truth in advertising anymore? Sad!

Well, Merry Christmas to all. God bless you and God bless America!

-Donna and Herb

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