Travesty Tuesdays – More Crimes Against Christmas

Over the summer, I spent almost a month at the farm, every night before dinner, my mother-in-law Zoey would head out to the garden in search of fresh produce for dinner. I’m not sure I had pictured how potatoes plants should be harvested, but it definitely didn’t involve ripping the plant out of the ground. The first time I watched my mother-in-law pull a potato plant out of the earth I thought to myself “Zoey! Stop! You’re killing the plant!” I later shared this reaction with my new family, who thought my city slicker love of potato leaves was funny.

Dear In-Laws,

Merry Christmas, may your holidays be as warm as the plump robin on the front of this card. Tex and I are looking forward to spending a month at the farm in the spring. I can’t wait to learn more about gardening although I’m a semi-professional already- did you know that I’m a seasoned killer of potato plants? Just imagine what I’ll learn in a month at the farm, perhaps how to use Chinese water torture on tomato plants? This gardening is quite a violent business, mind you what can one expect? Where there are hoes, guns, violence and pimps soon follow. I think that make the two of you honorary gangsters. This card has rapidly gotten off topic. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Love Unwashed

Dear Uncle Jake and Aunty Camelia,

I bought this card because I thought it read “nice” as in the frat boys commenting on dude’s new car- “niiiiice”. And then I got to the checkout and realized there were “naughty” cards. Thus I am arbitrarily assigning all of you to the receiving presents list this year. I’m like the Mother Theresa of material goods and capitalism, it doesn’t matter how many times you told off your neighbour for using his snowblower at 5am, you can still have that steel plated espresso machine. You’re welcome.


Also I included an awkward kissing photo from my wedding to boot. What can I say? I’m one generous S.O.B. That last sentence may have been a Mother Theresa quote. Or Ghandi, one of the two.

(I would have included said kissing photo in the post but I figured there are countless other sites one can visit to look at images of people groping each other on the web. You know you might be a little too into your new spouse when the minister has to all but ask you to get a room during the ceremony.)

Travesty Tuesdays- I Hope Karma Isn’t Actually a “B”

Sometimes I’m a jerk, the rest of the time, I’m an almighty lassmole. The following is a card I sent to the little guy Carter that i sometimes watch and his sister Kennedy.

Dear Carter and Kennedy,

Santa is coming!!! The only way to properly prepare for his arrival is by waking up your parents every day beforehand at 5 am and remind them of this fact at top volume. I am super close byds with your elf on a shelf and was thus informed of this new Christmas protocol.


Clearly this chocolate fiend and I are thisclose. (Photo Credit

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Please hug your parents and repeat this message to them loudly.


Dear Carter and Kennedy’s Mommy

I expect equal atrocities to eb inflicted upon me when I am a parent. Have a LEGO filled Christmas, I can’t wait for my turn to impale my feet on tiny plastic blocks as a way of heralding the holiday season.


When I was finished torturing parents of young children, I decided to send some Christmas cheer to tex’s relatives.

Dear Tim and Leanne,

May your Christmas be filled with red nosed uncles who drink too much and flaming figgy puddings that scorch the ceiling. Those are the best Christmases.

-Unwashed and Tex

Dear Tex’s family members that I have met all of once,

In the words of Mariah Carey “All I want for Christmas is you”, wait shoot, I meant to quote Bing Crosby. Well this is awkward, Merry Christmas at any rate.

-Unwashed and (I can’t believe he signed this one) Tex

I of course sent cards to my family, they were no less weird though.

Dear Dad,

Merry Christmas, in lieu of a daughter because I cannot fly, you get a card this year. There are some benefits to this arrangement: you never have to tell a card to quiet down and stop offending everyone around them, also paper doesn’t need reminders to shower.

Really you might want to stick with this arrangement especially considering that you don’t need to give Christmas cards rides anywhere because they don’t own a car.

Enjoy your Unwashed-free Chrstimas and revel in the fact that I won’t be pinching your hooch to ring in the New Year.

Love Unwashed and Tex






Ingredients For Seasonal Cheer: Jesus and Zebras in Party Hats

Last week I was confused for an eight year old. This happens on occasion. And by on occasion I mean a lot. Almost daily people ask me what I want to do after high school. My go to move of replying in a squeaky, high pitched voice “I’m a grown up DAMMIT!” is less effective than one might think.

So I’ve decided to do the most grown up thing I can think of. And to answer your question – no I’m not having a baby. Teenagers do that all the time consequently the act has lost it’s grown up status. No I’m going to do the other thing- next year I’m buying a house.

Nothing makes you sound more grown up (and boring!) than talking about interest rates. Adults are very, very interested in interest rates. They talk about them all the time while doing mature things like commuting. Ergo I’m going to start peppering my conversations with words like “prime” and “five year fixed term” so instead of being confused for a precocious teeny bopper, people shall recognize me for what I am; a small, irresponsible adult who has no idea what she is talking about

Buying a house means that one has to save and cut costs wherever possible. Last weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving which means that along with budgeting, I need to start writing Christmas cards. To save money, instead of buying and sending out traditional Christmas cards, I’ve decided to use my preexisting supply of stationary.

I feel this would work better if I hadn’t spent the past two years collecting the strangest card sets I could find in the Michael’s 90% off clearance bin.

Last year I inadvertently confused the conservative parents of a friend by sending them a Christmas card about midget slave labour. So I’m not sure how they’re going to react to the zebra birthday invitations I’m sending out in December this year.


To : People who see me once a year and possibly think I should be institutionalized.

Date: December 25th 2013

Time : The whole day!

Location : Your choice.

Hosted by : Jesus! It’s his birthday and he wants you to bring gifts for everyone except him. He’s a seriously generous guy.

Merry Christmas and or Happy Birthday

Much love,

The Great Unwashed


I’m thinking that I may send these kinds of cards out every year for Christmas; I like that they practically write themselves. It would cut down on the amount of time I spend debating if writing about juggling dogs is appropriate to use with a seasonal greeting.

Merry New Car,You Slept With a Celebrity and Then Got a Frozen Treat Day

I would make terrible greeting cards. First off they’d be way too specific. I mean just look at that title. How many times a year do you have a friend buy a vehicle and then knock boots with stardom? Two, three times max. And often one only phones on such occasions.

Secondly I have very bizarre taste and not a lot of tact. The “Grieving and Other Life Events That Are Not Fun” section in my greeting card store would really struggle because I’d put a giant ostrich on the front of the card with a speech bubble saying “Wanna come live with me?”

The Ostrich Struthio camelus is now farmed, pr...

This ostrich looks friendly and like it enjoys giving piggy back rides. Oh wait that’s how we lost your Great Aunt Sue (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Then the inside would read “Grandma took up the ostrich’s offer. She’s gone to a big emu farm in the sky. Sorry.”

Even though I buy my Christmas cards somehow they never end up being the standard holiday greetings most people send out. Here is a message I sent to a dear friend of mine who duels with poltergeists in his spare time.

Dear Gordy*,

Merry Christmas. I discovered a stack of Christmas cards that I either failed to write or failed to send.

I am a very responsible adult. I should probably be made president. I thought the front of this card said “nice” as in the Fonz style “nice”. But then I saw a stack of cards next to it that said “naughty” in bold letters and I was bummed.

So we’ll pretend you got a new car and I’m congratulating you- nice.

Congrats on hitting that?

Congrats on hitting that? (Photo credit :

Or slept with Miley Cyrus- nice. Wait. I don’t know about that one.

Come to think of it getting a new car is kind of expensive. Let’s go with something simpler. We’re going to make believe you got a cookies and cream ice cream cone and I’m writing a card rather than texting or saying “Good call. Cookies and cream, always a winner.” like a normal person.


So back to the initial purpose of the card. Merry Christmas. Or Happy Belated Arbor Day. Either way enjoy the pretend ice cream.

The Great Unwashed

Having finished all of the half written cards I’m now terrified to open up the prewritten, sealed and addressed envelopes. The majority of the time upon rereading words that I’ve penned to loved ones and friends I question who the weird person was who wrote said piece of mail. Tragically it’s always me. We’ll see if I get up the courage to open the envelopes in which cases they’ll appear next week for a Travesty Tuesday post or whether I’ll just send them out and figure out whether the contents were wildly inappropriate based on whether or not the recipients speak to me again.

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of friends who receive nine months late Christmas cards from me that aren’t really Christmas cards.