STFU Fridays: Seasons Greetings, Faithful Blog Followers!

Seasons Greetings, and kiss my fucking ass that is!

There has been a lot of talk about Christmas letters lately. Blogs are talking about them. People are talking about them. My grandpa fell the other day and is in the hospital recuperating, and keeps whining that he won’t get his Christmas letter done in time now. Apparently the letter is the thing to do.

So I’m leaving my own letter on your doorstep, faithful blog followers. Only instead of being printed on flowery paper with all sorts of bullshit no one wants to hear about on it, my ol’ yule log of greetings is in a paper bag and lit on fire. Instead of talking about me, for this Shut the Fuck Up Friday I’m talking about you…


Your Christmas Letter Informed Me About All Of Your Perfect Childrens’ Achievements

I don’t give a fuck if your kid placed first in soccer for the eighth time. I don’t give a shit if your kid is an honor roll student. As far as I’m concerned, he/she is on the honor roll of my asshole. You know why I don’t care? Because everyone’s kid is awesome – whether they are on the honor roll or the fucking dean’s list of losers that will never make it past 8th grade. Stop comparing yourself through your kids to other people. It’s cool that you want to encourage them; I, myself, have been known to brag on occasion. But a lot of times you’re just making them feel like they have to live up to certain Christmas letter standards, or they are a total failure to you.

Shut the Fuck Up

Your Christmas Card Included Oh-So-Unique Portraits of Your Beautiful Family


The choice to not remove the huge wart/pimple/hair from your face prior to the photo shoot was probably the wrong one. And while your portraits were clearly of you guys, you do know that your photos look just like everyone else’s, right? The kids walking in between the parents, looking back at the camera. In sepia. The family playing in the field in jeans and matching denim shirts. The beach images of the you guys writing your holier-than-thou family crest in the sand. Seriously, people – get over yourselves. I appreciate seeing your kids, since chances are I’m too much of a dick to just get in the car and drive out to see them, but let’s not put on any heirs here either: that picture is going in the trash come December 26th, right along with everyone else’s. Save your money and just send a polaroid.

Shut the Fuck Up

Your Verbal Diarrhea Informed Me Of All Your Hardships

Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ, do you people not understand that a Christmas letter is supposed to spread cheer? Like happy news? We received a letter in the mail last week that was six pages long; line after motherfucking line of sadness and hardship and “this person got laid off” and “these people’s house got foreclosed on.” Shit, by the end of the sixth page, I had taken two Valium and a shot of Canadian Club and considered driving myself off the pier in empathy.

Shut the Fuck Up

Your Blatant Lying Made Me Realize You Are Delusional

Although by contrast, we received another letter that was all unicorns shitting rainbows, and babies puking glitter – it was just that perfect. Life is great! Life is wonderful! I took a dump last week and it came out in bricks of gold! It concluded with “nothing ever seems to go wrong for us these days,” which is sweet but for God’s sakes: (1) grow up, and (2) stop lying. Life sucks balls. You don’t have to drag us down with all your problems, but the least you could do is be a little more realistic and humble about any good things you do have.

Shut the Fuck Up

Your Medical Problems Were Your Christmas Letter’s Centerpiece

What is it with people and sharing all their medical dramas over their Christmas letters? Call me crazy, but I always thought I’d save the stories about my bleeding asshole and weird smelling tits for either my doctor, my husband, or my shaman (disclosure: I do not have a bleeding asshole or weird smelling tits … or a shaman … at least not yet).

My grandpa is the worst with these – his letters always detail his medical dramas and the problems he has making his bowels move if the Nebraska Cornhuskers aren’t doing well. And there was that one time my Trailer Trash Mom wrote a couple paragraphs in grandpa’s letter about her unpleasant discharge – that was a real crowd-pleaser.

Shut the Fuck Up

So seasons greetings, motherfuckers. Please keep your vaginal discharge and your honor roll students to yourself. As you write your Christmas letters this next week, just keep in mind that when in doubt: shut the fuck up!


  1. rich

    never wrote a xmas letter. don’t think i ever got an xmas letter. that means either nobody i know is dumb enough to write one or everyone i know is smart enough to NOT send them to me. either way, i’m good.

  2. dinkerson

    My God. You’re so vulgar. Lol 😀

    1. rich

      that’s part of her charm. that and big boobs.

      1. Heather Christena Schmidt

        Always with the boobs, hmmm.

  3. empressnasigoreng

    I love Christmas letters. there should be more of them! Much prefer them to those posed photos of families wearing Santa hats and that type of thing. I never know what to do with those photos when I get them.

  4. Quirky Chrissy

    Don’t worry Heather. I sent you a Christmas Card. I know you were really looking forward to it, but I left out the Christmas letter. The photo card…well you’ll see it. Maybe someday I’ll STFU. Until then, Merry Christmas!

  5. UndercoverL

    Heather, let’s move to Washington state and get married. F*ck our husbands. Christmas cards suck and I disowned a sister because of hers. Her family sucks and she lies about it in a four-page epistle that griefs me every December. I shouldn’t have given her my damned address. Your trailer-trash mother’s discharge beats my sister’s family the same way a three-of-a-kind beats two-pair. I don’t write Christmas letters because my kids really are better than hers but there’s no use rubbing salt in the wound or creating another family witch hunt against me. I am going to convert to your religion.

  6. Stef Daniel

    Omg! Will you marry me? Written as if you read my mind.

  7. alienredqueen

    Okay… I’m totally on board with the medical thing… DISCHARGE? Oh, my fucking word!!!! But, even though there is truth in what you’re saying, my lord, girl, this post makes you sound bitter! While I’m sure some people do use these letters to show off, everyone prob approaches them differently. Some prob ONLY put good stuff in, so as not to depress anyone, or in order to be optimistic (puking glitter ! BAHhaha!) I don’t do these letters and I only know like one person who does. While I admit they do seem pretentious, sometimes they are helpful to let family know what your family has been up to if you aren’t in touch as often as you like. And if the person the letter from is someone you love, you SHOULD care about their kids’ achievements.

    1. Heather Christena Schmidt

      The point is not that I am careless about their kids. The point is they should be “bragging” in a way that is not in the Christmas letter. My family uses the Christmas letter to pit us all against each other, and I am aware of at least four other families that do that as well. Who got more space? Who didn’t get mentioned? And so on. My grandpa has on more than one occasion said that it’s the tradition of the Christmas letter to let people know how you really feel about your kids and grandkids’ achievements by how much you talk about them. Sad. Anyway, discharge is so gross. Any medical topic in a letter to people you hardly know is nasty!! Hahahah

      1. alienredqueen

        Yeah, you’re right. That is def NOT the point of Christmas letters. I think most ppl’s families are dysfunctional, we just usually have the sense to keep it quieter. Your Mom is (hilariously) not like that. Which sucks for you but is very amusing for us blog readers. 😉 My mom called me the other night with one of those “tick” questions: If I ask you something will you tell me the truth? (Say “yes,” but nod NO!!!)

  8. Al

    I see you’re sharing the Christmas Spirit!

    1. Heather Christena Schmidt

      Bet your ass I am!

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