Lethal Dose

What’s Christmas without the Yule Log?

If you get tired of that, be sure to check out the
Creepy Christmas Flickr Pool.

Canada Post suspending delivery, changing response system

Ottawa police have launched an investigation after a complaint that at least 10 Ottawa children have received letters from Santa Claus containing demeaning or insulting language.

Ottawa police Const. Alain Boucher confirmed Thursday that police are looking into the problem flagged by Canada Post’s Santa letter program.

Volunteers for the program, who are current or former Canada Post employees, respond to letters addressed to Santa Claus at the North Pole. The response includes a standard printed message and a personalized note that refers back to the individual child’s own letter.

Program manager Cindy Daoust said the content that sparked complaints ranged from “inappropriate language and observations about the child’s letter to Santa to more disturbing comments.”

She said some of the letters were sent to younger children whose parents opened the letters, but a few were opened by the children themselves.

“We’ve spoken to a lot of these parents and expressed our dismay,” she said. “We are devastated over this.”

My grandmother worked at Sears so the Wishbook was always a BIG DEAL. I would pore over it endlessly … and now people have scanned them in their entirety for our enjoyment.

I had “Crissy”, not Tressy. Then I got Crissy’s little sister, “Velvet,” and later, “Cinnamon.” God, these dolls sound like strippers! Crissy’s hair pulled out, just like Tressy, and you were supposed to pull a little string and it would go back up in the hole in her head. It never really worked, though.

You can only guess what the “Intimates” section is like in the Vermont Country Store catalog when they refer to things as “personal discomforts.” Check out these swingin’ items for your next sexy night in …

Should “love,” “acetate,” and “panties” ever be used in the same sentence? Do I want acetate anywhere near my nether regions?

Cover that waist! I’m guessing these are for those types who wear their pants straight up to their boob line … if you can even distinguish it.

The others also point out their “nonbinding comfort” … I guess for under those muumuus and “floats.”

PS. They were out of black xmas trees at Borders (I know!) That sort of gives me hope. I bought a “deep purple” one instead, and put a devil-duckie on the very top.

No, not wiglets, though I love that word (and wiglets and piglets.) These:

NEWBORNS FIRST CURLY PIGLETS IN COUNTY FOR 50 YEARS
08:00 - 05 December 2007

A litter of rare Mangalitza piglets are the first curly-coated porkers to have been born in Lincolnshire for 50 years. The perky piglets are a distant relative of the renowned, but now extinct, Lincolnshire Curly Coat - the last pig breed to have died out in the UK.

Born a week ago on a rectory outside Fulletby, near Horncastle, the seven hairy beasts are the size of rabbits and are stripey grey and cream in colour. At the moment they are keeping close to 700kg mum Ginger in their makeshift wooden home, although they have begun to walk and open their eyes.

And the births have also been an eye-opening experience for owners Brian and Sylvia Codling. Although they had been preparing for the birth of the pigs, their calculations had led them to think the due date was in January.

Now the retired couple are having to go through a crash course in rearing the first pigs they have ever owned. Brian said: “I can’t sleep at night. It’s a bit like having children. For the last week both of us have been waking up at 2am, wondering if they are all right.”

After hearing that 15 rare Hungarian Mangalitza pigs had been brought to the UK, he decided to buy four - Ginger and Mangel for breeding and Pepper and Wurzel for their meat. (NO!)

For Brian, breeding the porcine rarities is a way of bringing back a relative of the Lincolnshire Curly Coat, which died out in 1972.

Please don’t smash the pigs!

Piglets’ mum, Ginger.
****
Better than a lump of coal, these things are actually poisonous (of course, they are from China.) From the EWG:

CSI Fingerprint Toy (dangerous powder included)

Beware if your children put the CSI: Crime Scene Investigation™ Fingerprint Examination Kit on their holiday wish lists. It doesn’t take a sleuth to detect danger in these kits — the fingerprinting dust contains tremolite, one of the most lethal forms of asbestos.

Even worse, children are supposed to blow on the asbestos-contaminated powder after dusting for fingerprints, which means they will likely inhale lung-damaging, cancer-causing asbestos fibers.

Get it while you can, because it’s still on shelves. Yep.

I’ve found gifts for everyone this year - everyone I don’t like! Most of my readers know how much I dislike Santa Claus and all “Xmasy” things. Now that I’ve found a black xmas tree, I’m ready to put these horrors underneath - I can only imagine the joy on people’s faces when they open stuff like:

Melting Santa - I can’t wait to strike the first match:

think of the fun if you replaced the label with an ivory soap one:

isn’t this stuff illegal?

For the crackheads in my family (multiple jars, please)

and their parents.

that strange relative with the “hannibal lecter” obsession:

let’s start a new family game: SMASH THE PIG!

“after a holiday dinner, the pig is broken”

here’s a handy double set for the older relatives:
goodness - WOODEN q-tips?

i love this description:

hmm … women? money? liquor?

now, on to getting ready. first, i’ve got to do my hair … but what style?
french roll? hair rat?

well, i’ve already decided what I’m going to wear. first, this handy germ-and-icky-relative- drunk-breath-kiss preventor:

and this stylish number, in “mental patient blue.” i found it before i discovered their “muumuus and floats” section.

all i need is a pair of slippers (rubber soled, natch) and i’m ready … we’ll end it all with large helpings of that DISGUSTING xmastime tradition that everyone hates, but pretends they like when someone gives it to them:

I’m filled with holiday cheer, because it was 90 yesterday and I think it will be today, too. I like going into Starbucks and seeing all of the gifts and the tinsely things when I’m wearing a t-shirt and sandals. I also like getting emails like this one:

Dear Supporter,

Lead in toys? Mercury in mascara? Makes you wonder what else on your holiday shopping list is unsafe.

It sure does! Send me a list so I know what to buy everyone. It will take the guesswork out of shopping - and eliminate most of next year’s recipients at the same time!

light up, you sonofabitch.

Starbucks sugar-free gingerbread latte has a bizarre plastic aftertaste. Coffee Bean’s doesn’t come in sugar-free, which is probably why it tastes so damned good. That’s about as “holiday” as I get. Already last week I was aurally assaulted at Bed, Bath and Beyond by the scent of “holiday.” Of course “holiday” is a verb, just like the word “ranch,” but it’s now become a smell. An awful, evil smell of all things cinnamon-y and pumpkin-y. Most of my friends know that I believe Santa = Satan and every year there’s more proof of his evildoing. This year it appears to be the abolishing of Thanksgiving. Mind you, I grew up in New England, so I’ve had more than anyone’ share of pilgrims, happy turkeys tottering off to their decapitation, and joyful, giving Indians. I get depressed September 1st and remain so until May, which is why I moved out west, where fall and winter are things on a calendar, not outside. No more melancholy, sad days, filled with tryptophan, pondering the uselessness of life and why it’s okay to tell kids that a big, fat, white, older man can come in your house and will reward you, but if you see one on the street, run, or call the cops. However, if you see one at the mall, jump up on his lap so we can take a picture!

He’s pure evil.