As we hurl ever-closer towards the epicenter of the holiday season, I find myself racing to get all of my fabulously spectacular Christmas pictures posted. I don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself going into the new year if I'm not able to emphatically mock and publically ridicule everyone who deserves it. So check back often the next few days, as I'll be posting as fast as my wit will allow. Today's topic? Ornaments, natch!
What I know about this charming lil' Christmas tree ornament is that it was lovingly and painstakingly hand crafted by a baby's uncle in commemoration of his first Christmas. Yes, folks, this was not only made by an adult who is allowed to use a table saw, but his family supposedly considered it such a piece of art that they are planning on putting it aside as this kid's first real keepsake. Twigs and all. And although I can definitely appreciate the tremendous sacrifice this uncle made by giving up the functionality of his Trivial Pursuit board game, I also have a nagging suspicion that he might not have been using it all that much anyway. But who knows? Maybe next year this kid will get really lucky and be given a hand-carved wooden snowman with a tiny top hat, tiny battleship, and tiny bag of money hot-glued to it.
Just a quick note to whoever made these, thinking they were being all cute and creative and resourceful:
YOU HAVE FAILED IMPRESSIVELY. THESE DO NOT, AND NEVER WILL, LOOK LIKE ADORABLE AND CLEVER AND EXPENSIVE HAND-BLOWN GLASS ORNAMENTS. WHAT THEY DO LOOK LIKE IS YOU DRUNKENLY THROWING GLITTER ON A COUPLE OF DEAD LIGHTBULBS AND THEN THINKING YOURSELF A FREAKIN' GENIUS. STOP IT.
In life, there are ice cream cones, and then there are Christmas ornaments. In the same way that I do not wish to hang ice cream, nor their cones, on my Christmas tree, I also do not wish to bite into a sprinkle-coated ball of pain-flavored glass shards. Ever.
Re: Polyphemus Moth... and a doggie.
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