It's that special time of year when random companies send me their catalogs. I don't know why anyone thinks I might want to buy Meerkat statues, dancing pigs, or dress-able squirrel magnets, but apparently I fit the demographic, because the catalogs keep showing up. Of course, even the stores have their share of creepy Christmas presents. Here's my top pick of things you probably won't want to receive this Christmas. (If you're afraid any of your relatives might send you these things, do yourself a favor and email them the blog link.)
First off, let's talk about Dora the Explorer--that charming little girl who wanders the countryside, constantly lost. Last year I was creeped out to see the Dora Pillow Pet because it looks like some horrible species-cross-breeding experiment that went horribly wrong. (When did people become pets?)
Do not ask what Dora is doing with those Winnie the Pooh Pillow pets. You don't want to know.
I had high hopes that Dora would be back to her normal winsome self this year. Alas, it was not to be. I walked by a store and saw this.
If I were Hello Kitty, I'd be nervous. Apparently Dora ate her last sidekick.
Dora's new "husky" size made me wonder about the obesity problem here in the US. Why are we so overweight? And then I saw these next Christmas ornaments.
Okay, enough talk about obesity. In the last week, I have eaten far too many sugar cookies, gingerbread men, and brownies to get up on a soapbox about junk food. (And okay, I did just buy a cupcake ornament--but it was cute.)
Speaking of Christmas decorations, here's a two-story tall blow up Santa. Nothing will thrill junior quite as much as a Santa the same size as King Kong. I mean, that's not going to cause any nightmares. The reason Santa knows when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake is because he can look right into your bedroom window. And he does . . .
What do you get the person who has everything? How about a horse head mask? I mean, how many times have you been walking around your house wishing you could slip into something a little more equine? I love how the horse looks startled--like he's just watched the decapitated horse head scene from the Godfather.
Sometimes I think certain gift ideas must have come about after drunken parties in the marketing department. Marketeers were clearly trying to outdo each other by finding the absolutely stupidest objects they could make people in third world sweatshops produce. This mounted squirrel head (only 24.95) is not only sold by Wireless, it's on the cover of their catalog. Yep, the flagship of gifts, the hot item this year--a fake, dead, half a squirrel. Personally, I'd expect a real, dead, half a squirrel for that much money.
Just kidding! Lest I get angry comments about my inhumanity toward fake or real squirrels, let me emphasize that I love animals as much as the next person--in fact, arguably more, since I have so many cats I have been accused on more than one occasion of hoarding them. (The strays come and refuse to leave. It's really not my fault.) However, even I--animal lover that I am--found these next shirts creepy.
Remember the scene from Alien when an alien popped out of somebody's stomach? Yeah, that's pretty much the impression you'll give people if you wear this shirt. And the cat shirt--is it just me or does the cat look like it's just as horrified by this fashion choice as everyone else?
Lastly, for a mere 109.95 you can buy a two and a half foot tall Green Thumb garden statue.
All I can say about it is: Well, at least it's not the middle finger. That, I suppose, would really be more of a statement to your home owners association than an actual Christmas gift.
Sadly, there are many, many more tacky gifts where these came from.
If you want a great gift--and one that's a lot less than 109.95, try one of my books. I promise it will give you more enjoyment than half a squirrel or a gigantic, severed garden thumb.
If you're into romantic comedies about women who work for hot, single movie stars:
If you'd like to see past years creepy gifts, you can check them out here: