My New Year's resolution was to retire from public life utterly. Then Shia Labeouf decided that this was a good idea to borrow, so that's another of my resolutions that have come to naught. In other news, my resolution to live on better terms with my pet wasp is still intact. Horace and I are committed to putting our differences aside this year
I never watched Brokeback Mountain. I don't like westerns I guess. A friend tried to tell me that movie was gay, so I stopped talking to him: I won't tolerate the use of inappropriate language around me. It's a stupid criticism too. I mean, just because someone wears a cowboy hat doesn't make them gay. Anyway, today's card is for those of you bedeviled by authenticity. I love you guys, you know?
I dislike funerals 'cause afterwards you have to go and mill about at someone's house and there is always potato salad covered in plastic wrap. And I really hate potato salad. But my job requires that I write Sympathy Cards, so I have to brush all the nausea under a metaphorical rug and be professional about death. Today's card? Consummate professionalism about death right there.
I'm not ashamed to admit it: I'm a man and sometimes I have emotions. When Bunheads got canceled I went into a bit of a dark place. I dragged most of my furniture into the backyard and burned it all in a cold rage, and grew a beard for a while. Downton Abbey reruns made me feel whole again. You know what? I'm dedicating today's card to you. And to Bunheads.
People, I have a dream - and in that dream there's a goat flying a biplane wearing a leather helmet and goggles and he' chanting Wagner. That's why you shouldn't follow your dreams; sometimes they're rubbish. Now, today's card is an apology ecard. If you should ever really need a good card to apologize to someone for something, remember - wrongcards: not the best place for that.
I have a theory. Have you ever vomited and thought: 'My God, there's tiny bits of carrots in it. Look at 'em all. Wait, I didn't eat carrots. When's the last time I ate carrots? I need to eat more carrots.' Anyway I have a theory. Your appendix? It produces tiny pieces of carrot for when you throw up. That's my theory. (I never said it was a good theory).
I may be a Rapscallion but I also have high standards. This is why I absolutely refuse to drink in a bar that lets people like me through the door. A lot of people ask me how to get started as a Rapscallion but we have a very strict dress code and I always try to talk them out of it. You know, a Rapscallion is only three nice suits away from becoming a bounder. It's why I can't own nice suits.
I'm still in Spain, by the way - and today I spent half a day out in the middle of a field chasing around three rabbits who simply could not understand I wanted to be their friend. (The Spanish Tourism Authority can expect a strongly worded letter). You know how sometimes people insist you apologize for stuff? Today's card makes them less noisy.
'I may not believe in marriage but I believe that everybody, regardless of sexual orientation, is entitled to make mistakes like that. Even though I am a heterosexual boy I would consider marrying a gay person, or even a group of gay persons, if they are all female and good at cooking: why not? It's sad that people aren't always as mature as I am.'