Greetings! What a year the Millers had… messy and sordid! It's going to take another whole year to unfuck all of this.
Husband #6 went out for a gallon of milk and came back with the cashier. I divorced him and gained 25 pounds from the emotional support Fudgsicles. I knew he was a close-minded lying dickhead when I married him but who knew that “working on his feminine side” would turn him into such a weepy little pansy? But my new boyfriend is a keeper, even though he finds himself unemployed after telling his boss he wanted to buy her a toaster for her bathtub.
The past year has brought many great revelations, such as how drinking 8 cups of water a day seems impossible yet 7 beers and 3 shots in 2 hours goes down like a fat kid on a seesaw. Not supposed to say fat. Insert pudgy.
Daughter #1, who changed her name to Nasti D, is extremely proud that she can now make really bad decisions without alcohol or drugs. Her sister, Emilie, inspired by a program on the radio about the importance of “following your bliss,” posts YouTube videos of herself eating breakfast cereal with her hands tied behind her back. She's hoping to go viral! Her life's ambition…
Trying to get child #3 out of bed is like saving Private Ryan. We're all going to die trying. Apparently the pressure of going to work was seriously discoloring her aura and messing with her chakra so she's going to languish in the prison of her mind for eternity without leaving the comfort of her bed.
Our eldest son, who fancies himself an art dealer of dick pics, has found his avocation stuffing pimentos into little green olives. Someone's gotta do it. I would say that his little brother Teddy is the one we pray for, but in truth, we'd pray for all of them if we believed in God.
My angel Lizzie, described as “loud and ghetto” on her work evaluation, continues to celebrate her sexuality. Her brother Eric fell madly in love with a woman on the subway and it only took him a New York minute to show her. Unfortunately the police referred to it as indecent exposure.
My baby Paul is trying to develop edible toilet paper for his school science fair project. He also busies himself exploring puppetry as a vehicle for communicating with animals. He's the smart one in the family.
As for me, I find myself wanting to escape everyday stress and achieve a Zen-like oneness, but not to the extent of lying on the floor in stretchy clothes or sitting immobile for what seems like eternity. I continue to seek a job that would be a good fit for someone who lacks a serious work ethic and isn't particularly bright or motivated. And I have recently concluded that if my boyfriend ever leaves me, I'm going with him.
So, in the year to come, we will be checking our white privilege to make sure it's still there. And my advice for 2020: Don't wait until you have one foot in the grave to tell people how you feel about them—tell them they're idiots now.
Hugs and sloppy wet kisses from the Millers!!!
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