I don’t know what’s more troubling: the fact that I was completely unfazed by the decapitated head snacking on its own brains, or that I spent AN HOUR trying to figure out how that bird is standing…

Is that it’s ass in the air? Why is it standing on one leg? Is the other leg hiding? Is it peeling back the skull so the decapitated head can eat itself? Also, are those turds? Because they look like turds.

Clearly I have been viewing too many of The Awesome while writing here…

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*Thanks to Greta for catching my unphased/unfazed spelling mistake. I think she deserves a belly button lint teddy bear, don’t you?

I have never, ever, EVER understood the appeal of Hello Kitty.

Ever.

I mean, look at her. Even as a little girl, I didn’t get it when the preppy girls in my class would ohh and ahh over Hello Kitty erasers and pencils and pencil cases and whatever else they could get their mitts on that had that boring white cat on it.

I liked Garfield. Garfield was sarcastic.

I liked Tom, of Tom and Jerry. He had drive, spunk and a mean streak.

Hello Kitty just sits there.

You know what else I don’t get? Fetuses. I didn’t ohh and ahh over any of my pre-half-time ultrasounds. After 20 weeks I noticed my oldest was sucking his thumb and had feet. I was cool with that.

Anyway, you know what I don’t get today?

Hello Kitty Fetus.

WhatThaFack?

Thanks Audrey!
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Remember when Alice took the acid and bit the head off the White Rabbit?

I’m afraid someone is going to put LSD in the eggnog and then we are going to have our white elephant gift exchange and I am going to get this:

And I’ll start screaming FEED YOUR HEAD! FEED YOUR HEAD!

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Suebob sleeps with the lights on.

You know, I think this one pretty much speaks for itself.  Technically I suppose it IS hunting season.  But really?  There’s nothing that makes this ok.  Nothing.

Of course it’s mounted on knotty pine.  *Sigh*

Now I can’t stop picturing it singing “Take Me To The River” like one of those creepy bass fish gag gifts.  Crap.  I’m never going to sleep again, am I?

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Elly Lou celebrates free range, hormone free, sustainably farmed vaginas.

REDACTED!

I’ll try again next week not to pick on the undeserving. Go read some more Craftastrophe! There are links below!