Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Happy Whatever

And I truly mean that. This should be a season for celebrating, no matter what the faith or reason. This should be a time for sharing all that is good about our particular celebration, and even commiserating over the stresses. I read once of Christians who lived in the same community as their Jewish neighbors, and on the Sabbath the Christians would bring food to their friends because the Jews did no work on that day. That's the kind of world I want to live in.

I've heard news reports that say shopping is way down this year, which I guess is bad for the retailers. I can't help but think maybe it's a good thing for our souls, though. Not having the underside of the tree crammed with presents lets you focus a little more on the important stuff.

Charitable giving, though, has only dipped slightly. And the bell ringers have had diamond rings, watches, and extremely valuable old coins dropped in their kettles. Maybe we're not as bad as everyone says we are.

So whether it's Kwanzaa or Chanukah or Solstice or just enjoying the baked goodies around the fire- I mean, we need a few extra pounds to keep us warm over the coming winter- enjoy your family and your friends. I'll be offline till New Year's, so now I wish all of you a most blessed, Merry Christmas.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Angels Are Spiteful And Dangerous

Or at least they are if you believe the emails I get. You know the ones; there's a picture of the most annoyingly cute little chubby-cheeked cherub you've ever seen, tiny fluffy wings a-flutter, sprinkling hearts and rainbows on grinning kittens and puppies waiting below.

These adorable seraphim are accompanied by an anecdote about a woman having a dream about God talking to her about footprints, or a man failing to take time out of his busy life for an old homeless woman who prayed for him and then finding out she died the next day.

Then the emails treat me to a long poem that gushes. Over me. And y'all, I am loved, I am special, and people think of me CONSTANTLY.

And since that kind of friendship is so special, how nice would it be if I forwarded that email to ten friends? If I do, the angels will bring me a blessing within 72 hours. It really, really, works! But if I don't, well...I wouldn't want to do that. I mean, I forward meaningless jokes, so why wouldn't I forward this? Something BAD might happen.

Why have these angels decided to hold me hostage? These cute, benevolent little beings are showing their teeth. Do they get a kickback from each email that's forwarded? Are their positions on the harp choir taken by other angels who are successful at threatening their recipients? Does God throw them out of heaven entirely if they don't make the quota?

If you're an angel's fondest wish and you always forward these things, fine. Just don't forward them to me, okay? I don't want to be responsible for heavenly wing pruning.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

You Want Me To Do WHAT?!?

I don't blame him.

Have a great weekend, and finish your Christmas shopping!

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Holiday Snark Trifecta

Two of the best blogesses I know, Missie of More of a Woman and Beth from StarvingWriteNow are doing a three-way with me. Take that how you will.

Ah, the holidays at Harlequin headquarters…

A Daddy for Christmas

Missie: We're all going to have a Merry Christmas because this year, Daddy is on the right meds.
Beth: "And then, little Susie plunged the star into daddy's chest, killing him instantly. Christmas night, the family dined well.. and had plenty of leftovers for New Year's."

Robyn: Does anyone else get the feeling that once she puts the star on the tree the mother ship is going to zap him up?

The Christmas She Always Wanted

Robyn: Take your time opening your presents, honey. Mommy and Daddy are going to…um, write thank-you notes to Santa.
Missie: She always wanted to leave her child alone under the tree opening presents while she runs off to be with the latest in a long line of studmuffins.

Beth: Mommy and Daddy are poised for flight just in case Little Satanic Sweetie doesn't like her gifts. (and btw, anyone else notice that Mommy's left leg is half the size of her right?)

The Italian’s Miracle Family

Missie: Somebody has spent a leeeetle too much time in the tanning bed.
Beth: Hello? HQ Art Department? What happened to the little girl's neck? That bowling ball head of hers is going to roll right off without it!

Robyn: Christmas just isn’t complete until you’ve impaled a toddler on the tree.

Follow the links for more holiday snark!

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

I'm Such A Weenie

So for the past couple of weeks I've been assaulting you with my mouse problems. I've been all MOUSE ON MY COUNTER and I CAN'T KILL IT and GREEN MOUSE POOP EEEWWWW and feeling smug about winning over Mother Nature. Lemony-fresh victory is mine!

Until I was cleaning out some old computer files and found these from some people my Aunt knows in a little bitty town in OK called Watonga:

This woman's kids were playing on the floor in the kitchen last winter. She came in and noticed THIS THING staring at the children.

I should just count my blessings and put up with the mice.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Happy Birthday, Missie!

My bestest friend, Missie, is another year older! Of course, since I'm so much nicer than she is, I won't tell you older than what. I wanted to bake a cake for the occasion, though money is tight. Hmmm...

Okay, I guess bargain shelf Thanksgiving pumpkin cakes with questionable stems are a little crass. Maybe this...

Well, the dead circus clowns on a moldy hill didn't quite have the festive atmosphere I wanted. Let me keep looking...

Naked babies riding carrots! That's the ticket! No? Oh, well. I can always fall back on the old standard that never fails to please-

Old Beefcake.

Happy day, my friend. Enjoy!

(cake images from CakeWrecks)

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Darn You, Global Warming!

I know, Kate, I know. It's so hard to find an outfit when your top half is cold and your feet are freezing, but you just don't want your legs to get too hot. I feel your pain.