Fake Newsletter

To Whom It Doesn’t Concern:

The question you’re probably muttering to yourself hunched over your computer screen is this: has it really been a year since the last family newsletter? Yes. Maybe not a year exactly, but close enough. In 2020, the family’s been up to big things like never before. Huge things. Enormous things. Things that deserve more than a few life sentences. Which, as you’ll see, is rather fitting. 

Much to the dismay of his neighbors, Cousin Petey has taken up the piccolo, insisting family members call him “Piccolo Pietro” from now on. He started with Bach and Beethoven (“the boys”),
before moving onto Prince and Ravel (“the fellas”). His dog, Pete Jr., (yes, he named his pooch after himself) barks a perfect bolero. 

Aunt Nancy is very into CBD. But who isn’t these days? She even opened her own specialty shop specializing in various oils and creams in Elkhart, Indiana.

Uncle Fred was the subject of a semi-popular meme back in August. He spilled a bowl of Museli all over his surgical mask and I believe it became infamous as an unforgettable “COVID fail” – or something. 

Diane joined a cult, so we haven’t heard much from her lately. It sure does sound like a blast from the little I gleaned from the group’s rather extensive Wikipedia page. My understanding is that “7-Eleven's Gate" believes that the stores contain hidden portals to another world. Practically speaking, cult members have to shop there every day. That means no big Walmart or Costco trips. Each transaction according to the scripture increases the odds you'll find a secret entrance. You can pick out these people by who shops at 7-Eleven with a roll cart. They bring luggage with them even on gum runs. The last thing you want is to discover an inter-dimensional portal and not have your toothbrush. So Diane's doing just fine.

Big Jim, only a couple weeks from retirement, got arrested for embezzlement and “other crimes.” However, since he wasn’t the biggest name on the list of indictments, the Feds didn’t give have the decency to give us the satisfaction of an old-fashioned perp walk. 

To save his own skin, Little Jimmy testified against Big Jim at the trial causing a major rift within the family. The thing is, the two Jims are only related by marriage, so the lack of loyalty didn’t come as much of a surprise. After serving two years in prison, he’ll enter witness protection somewhere in the southwest. Scottsdale? 

After decades of rejections, Gramps had a poem published in an obscure Limerick quarterly based out of the republic of Georgia. There once was a man without a will, yet his family fought over it still, when he buried his loot, under dirt for a hoot, so how much? Oh, maybe a few mil.

Gram finally caught up on Matlock. Streaming services sure are a lifesaver, huh?

Tony Bags, though not technically a member of the family, has lived in a few of our attics, basements, and garages over the last few months. The man makes a good Sunday gravy though. 

Jake the pet rat learned how to use a yo-yo and make grilled cheese, tired of “uncooked formaggio" dropped on the kitchen floor.

Baby Nikki was voted best the “backgammon playing infant in Suffolk County, New York.” Sadly, it’s not a title she can hope to retain next year, when she’ll be competing against players twice her age. But it’s a nice shiny trophy that looks great on the mantle beside the stuffed pheasant.  

It’s been an eventful year, I’d say. As would the rest of the family – that’s if they hadn’t already signed strict NDAs.