This year I started a new annual tradition. Each and every time somebody mails me a Christmas card with a newsletter, that motherfucker gets dunked in the trash immediately. You may call me an ungrateful asshole. I call myself a god damn genius.

Look, I get it. It’s that time of the year where you want to share your love and appreciation to family and friends by sending them a nice Christmas card (or “Holiday card” if you’re a politically correct troll). It’s a simple gesture that makes this time of the year special. However, it’s about damn time some guidelines get laid out.

It’s already vain enough that you’re probably sending people a picture of yourself (and maybe the rest of your family). Nothing says Merry Christmas like shutterflying an amateur family photo onto a card as if we have forgotten what the hell you look like. You’re on Facebook, asshole. You have pictures that I can see at any time so I don’t need another stupid picture of you and your family. Unless you’re old, I’m not a fan of this practice (old people get a pass on this one because it’s a known fact that they do not send Christmas cards with their own pictures even though they’re not on Facebook).

As you can tell, I’m a little back on forth on the picture thing. But if you decide that you think it’s a good idea to include a newsletter with your Christmas card, now we have a fucking problem.

I do not need a recap about how you got a promotion at your job this year, that you got married, had a kid, went on vacation (wow, groundbreaking stuff), bought a house, etc. Seriously, if you think this is an acceptable practice, I hate you. If I even care enough about you, I should already know these things. Am I right? If not, why in the hell are you sending me a Christmas card? Nobody wants to read this bullshit. Let me repeat. NOBODY WANTS TO READ THIS BULLSHIT!

The evolution of bragging has been remarkable throughout my 26 years of life. People my age have gone from bragging about how tall their pediatrician predicted they’d be, to how much they drank over the last weekend, to how awesome their life is in a fucking Christmas card newsletter. Before I know it, I’m going to hear about how your son is going to be the next Sidney Crosby (no he’s fucking not).

So next year when you send me a Christmas card with a newsletter, just know that I’ll be tomahawking that shit like Vince Carter in the trash can.