I am spending entirely too much emotional energy watching the Kardashians' reality show, which means I really need to be slapped upside the head, hard.
Fortunately, on the coffee table near the TV I had a catalog from a Christmas store to page through, to break my hypnotic obsessing.
(Really, if I were either Kardashian sister who is not Kim, I would be depressed all the time. Why did Kim get all the looks? Why do I know who ANY of these people are? Why do I care? Have I mentioned thank heavens I have that Christmas catalog?)
So, The World's Largest Christmas Store -- which did I mention is local to my hometown? It isn't IN in my hometown, but it's right nearby, and I have been obsessed with it since I was a kid because it is ridiculously, you know, not minimalistic. I'd link you to the store but I'm about to make fun of their wares and do not want them to come find me. Turn me into an ornament.
Dottie and I have a tradition that each year we get each other the most awful ornament we can find from said World's Largest Christmas Store. She is lucky enough that she can actually shop at the real place, whereas I just have the catalog. Anyway, while watching those deeply intellectual Kardashians today, I mulled over what to get Dottie this December.
Shop with me, will you? If you were gonna get someone an ugly ornament, which would you pick?
There's this one, which seems to be mixing the secular and the religious in a way that manages to offend just everyone. It's pretty convenient that Mary happened to have a blanket with trim that coordinates with Santa's cuffs.
Nothing says Christmas like a big bottle of gin. I know it's what I reach for first thing Christmas morning. How big of a drunk do you have to be if this is your ornament?
I can't stand gin, actually. To me it tastes like a pine tree. Hey, maybe that's why you're supposed to hang it on your Christmas tree. Because it tastes like one.
Am dying, so to speak, to send this to my Aunt Mary. Or I could get one that reads, "Christmas in Heaven...Dottie" just to freak her out in a Twilight Zone-y kind of a way. Make her think perhaps she has passed on and all this is indeed heaven. Yes, she WOULD be getting gifts from me in heaven. Shut up.
Get your motor running. HEAD OUT ON THE HIGHWAY. Because it's Christmas. And it's...an RV. Naturally. Christmas. A time to celebrate extremely low gas mileage.
Merry Christmas. You have a really bad STD.
A Jewish Christmas tree ornament. Do you feel like the inside of your head just imploded?
Joy to the world, I hit the JACKPOT! Please see comments above re the gin bottle. Except slot machines don't taste like pine to me.
There is also an outhouse ornament but I am pleased to tell you I already sent that to Dot in years past. I am really torn. The RV? The genital? There are just so many choices. All of them festive.
Do help a sister out.
