It’s the holiday season, and if your house is anything like ours, things are getting a little hectic. The latkes are burning on the stove, the dog ate a sprig of mistletoe and now someone needs to drive it to the expensive vet that’s open on weekends and holidays, and…err…well, we can’t identify a single piece of Kwanzaa paraphernalia to build a joke around. Sorry.
Anyhow, we figure that you’re probably so busy these days — what with all that last-minute holiday shopping (still not too late to get us that ShoeDini we wanted!), dealing with visiting in-laws, and covering for all of your co-workers while they’re on vacation (not that we’re bitter) — you haven’t taken any time to treat yourself. Well, that’s why you have us.
We don’t want to give away what we’re giving you for Christmahanukwanzakah (it’s ecumenical), but we thought you deserved a little early holiday joy — in the form of what might be the greatest piece of legal correspondence in history (with special thanks to the rabid
self-flagellating masochists Cleveland sports fans at ’64 and Counting)… Continue reading the full story . . . »