Now, first, let me say that I understand the unorthadox-ness of the post-Christmas missive. I know, I know, you’re all packed for the tropical holiday and you’re probably about as interested in more mail as I am in a tube of Monistat.
But, honey, we need to talk about your fulfillment department. Cause, well, there are some issues and the ISO9000 people are just not going to certify you with these systems.
First who handles your intake distribution? Cause you have got some putzes on the job, sweet-cheeks. Truly. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Some of my best friends are undersized men in green and red tights. But I think it’s safe to say that there’s a breakdown somewhere, and I don’t mean that situation after Mrs. Claus decided to swap a bottle of Chivas for her Prozac.
Let’s look at my case, as that is totally representational of 145 million gift recipients.
I asked for two things.
Either a Top Ten Blog, OR a vacation home in Maui.
And that vacation home was really just a back up and I was completely thinking of the children.
You know what happened Christmas morning, Ho-Ho-Ho-Meister? I woke up and checked my Alexa rating. I was not edging out Gawker for the number 8 spot. Nope. I was STILL sitting there keeping 88,217th place toasty warm. And while it’s good to know that I am beating out howtomakeyourownmullet.com for readership, I think you’ll understand how it’s hard to find a lot of joy in eighty-eight-thousandth place. There are no ribbons for that, Bristle Boy.
Also, if you left the keys for the vacation home here somewhere? You did an AWESOME job of hiding them. They weren’t in my stocking or under the tree, and if you picked someplace really creative, like, I dunno…under the refrigerator? Then between you and me, we ain’t gettin’ into the place without a rock and some broken glass.
You know what else? I got things I didn’t ask for! Like these eleven pounds. Who the hell thought I needed those? These were CLEARLY meant to be left at the home of some recovered Calvin Klein model who’s come to her goddamn senses and realizes that NO ONE thinks it’s sexy when you can count a woman’s lymph nodes.
So, Santa, baby, come the season this time in 2011 let’s you and me go through your organizational processes. I can bring in some really good people for materials acquisition, supply chain, manufacturing, R & D, intake and fulfillment.
We’ll get you competitive with China in NO time.
And then maybe next year I won’t be giving you crap about the fur-lined Speedo.
hugs and kisses,