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November 2012 Volume 14 , Issue 11 submit to us!

by Pete McArdle -- Contributing Author [Email This Story]

It was another wonderful and exciting year for the Johnsons!

Our eldest, Glenn, was finally paroled, thank God, and we're glad to have him back. I must say the neighbors have been somewhat less than charitable, what with his Level II sex-offender status and all, but really, how was he to know she was only fifteen? And besides, the goats, the handcuffs, and the rubber boots were all her idea in the first place.

But Glenn says he's learned his lesson: no more goats! They're darn messy things, goats, between them and those awful forensics people with their jelly doughnuts, we had to replace the entire den carpet. I kiddingly told the forensic techs they were much too fat and homely to ever get on "C.S.I.: Las Vegas", but of course they didn't laugh.

Glenn seems to be adjusting well to civilian life, though it is a little off-putting to enter his room in the morning and see him sleeping with his back against the wall. Lately he's been working for this fellow, Carlos, driving his car to and from Miami and getting paid---quite handsomely, I might say---in cash. I just wish there weren't so many guns involved but apparently car transportation can be dangerous.

This year we're especially grateful that our little dog,

Chi-Chi, is still with us after that terrible accident. I can still hear her sudden squeal as I was backing the new Hummer out of the garage in such a hurry. Who knew such a tiny dog could have so much blood? Glenn, of course, wanted to shoot her on the spot but I said no, let's give the vet a chance, worst case scenario we can always sell the parts for transplantation. And what a miracle that she survived! Watching little Chi-Chi lurch through the house, using just one paw, her tail, and her teeth, is truly inspirational---although it's not helping the hardwood floors any! I tell the vet he should give us a discount, he's only treating half a dog, ha ha!

As for our sweet, precious Tiffany, she's not only blossoming into a beautiful young lady, she's also starting to get a handle on her little arson problem. Her therapist, Dr. Perkins, has helped her ever so much with innovative ideas like buying two trees at Christmas, one to hang decorations on in the living room and the other to burn in the backyard. You should have seen little Chi-Chi move when that baby went up, whoa! How ironic was it then that Dr. Perkins should perish in a house fire? We shall miss him.

We recently surprised Tiffany with a gorgeous tabby cat to replace poor Ernesto. Although he was a good-natured kitty, Ernesto was none too bright, I mean, how stupid do you have to be to crawl into an oven set at 475 and close the door behind you? D-u-u-h!?! The kitchen still doesn't smell right but it's the holiday season now, a time to be of good cheer, not dwell on the past.

As you know, everyone loves my wife, Bubbles, and the Christmas gifts keep pouring in. The lawn man gave her the most adorable little diamond earrings and our auto mechanic gave her a sheer silk nightie, although I haven't seen her in it yet. The plumber's gift was a bit odd, though, he gave her a selection of scented oils, a large carton of "C" batteries, and an oversized toilet plunger. If he thinks my wife would ever fix a clogged toilet, he's nuts! As I write, Bubbles is out back getting her Christmas gift from her personal trainer, Olaf. Frankly, I don't know how much good he's doing her since she limps for days after their sessions, but Bubbles gamely keeps going back for more.

I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on my sweetie,

hanging upside down from that pole. It was fate that I happened to have all those singles with me that day, enough so that we could really get to know each other. It's been a classic love affair ever since, although I'm sick and tired of taking all those antibiotics! But except for those pesky pills, my life with Bubbles is wonderful, and we never have a problem getting anything fixed around the house.

Those of you who haven't seen me lately probably wouldn't even recognize me. Between the diet pills and the steroids, I've lost all my excess fat and replaced it with slabs of rock-solid muscle. I had my nose done so I could breathe better and while they were in the neighborhood, they took care of my droopy eyelids and jowls. That looked so good that I went back for Botox, a chemical peel, hair plugs, and porcelain laminates---think Donald Trump, only without the comb-over.

Recently, I had the excess skin removed from my neck---it's still a little hard to turn my head---and calf-implants so I can feel confident wearing shorts. These days, when I look in the full-length mirror, I've absolutely no idea who that big, strong, handsome man is. But I like him!

And next year I'm hoping to have spinal reconstruction to improve my posture and add a couple inches of height. I'd like to be about six-five or so. Carlos says he knows an elderly German surgeon in the Keys who only does spine-lengthening, and that he, Carlos, would be glad to look after my wife while I'm recuperating. He's so generous and thoughtful, Carlos is! Our son's making a small fortune working for him and Bubbles simply loves the home entertainment center he gave her for Christmas.

This year, we decided to celebrate the true spirit of Christmas

by taking in a poor, unfortunate homeless person for the holidays. We found Harry in an alley behind our favorite bakery, having a conversation with some string and trying unsuccessfully to smoke a cruller. I laid down a trail of Chef Boyardee ravioli to lure him into the back of the minivan, and as soon as he was inside, bam!, I slammed the door and off we sped, our eyes tearing from a stench so foul I can't even describe it to you---think one part urine, one part old sweat, and one part Old Spice. When we finally got Harry home, my wife took him into the bathroom and three hours later he emerged, squeaky-clean and wearing a wide toothless grin that wouldn't quit. Unfortunately Bubbles was limping again, the poor thing!

It turns out that Harry was a liability lawyer who, during a particularly slow period, successfully sued himself for defamation and came unhinged. He'd been living behind the bakery for the past decade or so, sleeping on a bed of newspapers, discussing politics with the rats, and occasionally eating one to complement his steady diet of baked goods. And now Harry was sitting at our dinner table, discussing goats with Glenn, trashcan fires with Tiffany, and reverse cowgirl---whatever that is!---with Bubbles. Even Chi-Chi was in a festive mood, making happy little gurgling sounds as Harry scratched behind her remaining ear. O Holy Night!

So that's what the Johnsons were up to this past year. I guess to some our lives may seem dull and uninteresting. But when you get right down to it, we're one big happy family and that's all that really matters. Have a joyous and peaceful holiday!

Love and kisses,

Vinnie, Bubbles, Glenn, Tiffany, Harry, and Chi-Chi

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Features -- November 2012 -- Beginning Month Issue

Pete McArdle
-- Additional Work --