Fug the Christmas Card, Because We’re Grinchy Like That: The Kardashians


I am DEVASTATED that I didn’t get this Christmas card in the mail. What, Kardashians? Don’t you love me anymore?

Let’s get real: This is RESPLENDENT. As I said to Friend of GFY Grant yesterday, it looks like bus stop signage advertising the premiere of the third season of a shitty/awesome nighttime soap. Back in the day when we shared an office, Grant and I were working on our own fictional nighttime soap as a form of procrastination and entertainment, writing all the plot ideas on our giant whiteboard, and eventually we sucked the whole office into it, so people would just burst into our room and say things like, “WHAT ABOUT HOLOGRAM TWINS FROM THE FUTURE? Also, lunch is here.”  And, if I do say so myself, certain aspects of said fictional soap were REALLY great, like the whole plot line with the astronaut, the insane asylum, and the severed hand — not to mention Diandra and Levitra, the aforementioned hologram twins from the future.  And THIS, you guys,  this is totally what the ads for that show would look like, although we also would have included a person in a wheelchair who of course can secretly walk, and a girl who just spent several months trapped in a coal mine. But listen, all I know is that if Scott Disick starts cheating on Kourtney with a woman who may or may not be a hologram, I WILL START WATCHING KEEPING UP WITH THE KARDASHIANS SO HELP ME GOD.

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