Fan mail, cutting corners & grinchin' out

Dear Rachel,

Day one and I’m digging the new compact Telegraph. Then again, I like short things. Short stacks. Short films. I had an honest-to-goodness dream, though, that whole swaths of people were angry about the paper. Made me wonder what kind of actual angry mail y’all are getting. What do you think of the new paper, Rachel? 

– Friend in Me

Dear Short Stuff,

It ain’t the height of the paper that matters; it’s the girth of the content. Let’s be grateful that there even is still a Telegraph. Imagine if we had to import printed issues from China, and you got your weekly dose a month late. Imagine if we went digital. You know someone would try lighting their stove with a Kindle.

– Had it up to here, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I bought new fake dress shoes on Black Friday. Fake because they were like $35 even without a sale, but in a dark room they pass as decent boots. Second time wearing them and the zipper popped. Any home remedies?

– Penny Loafer

Dear Dressed to the Threes,

The trick is to keep people entertained up top so they never look at your shoes. And no, I don’t mean hypnotized by your boobies (or your moobies). You can buy a couple books for $35. Make yourself interesting and your shoddy shoes will just become a likable quirk. But if brains aren’t really your thing, then at least buy a lot of dental floss for $35 instead.

– Hoofing it, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

My holiday spirit is nowhere to be found this year. I don’t actually celebrate any particular holiday, but I dig all the accoutrements. The music, the candles, the food, the parties, the lights, the drinking, the movies. I don’t feel like the Grinch this year, I’m not actively against the holidays, just can’t seem to get into the swing of things like I normally would. Is this normal, just part of finally growing up four-plus decades in?

– Lump of Coal

Dear Carbon Fuel,

This is perfectly normal! It’s the part of every cheesy Christmas movie where everything falls apart and not even twinkle lights and a well-meaning country grandma can lift the protagonist’s spirits. I’m sure your rich heiress neighbor, or your romance columnist childhood friend, or your sexy snowplow driver, will rekindle your holiday cheer. If not, you can come get drunk with me. I’ll be alone with my short, unlit, Tele-sized tree.

– That’s how I keep Christmas, Rachel