Merry Christmas! Have a Dog Cock!
Boy, you know you have a weird family when your shopping list includes a handful of penis bones.
The internet has proved its worth yet again tonight, enabling me to procure mail-order dog peckerbones for a reasonable price, and without leaving the house. With a fateful click, the end of my holiday shopping is in sight. Soon an unsuspecting FedEx man will be depositing a box containing the mortal remains of man's best friend's best friend on my doorstep. The wild canine penis bone project should be complete in time for the big day.
I trust that none of you will, you know, tell my dad that I'm buying him a bunch of dicks for Christmas. I sort of want it to be a surprise. A nice surprise, though. Shadowboxed and all that.
On a less morbid and bonerific note, thank you, Cherie, David, for the package! An uncorrected proof of Dreadful Skin, and Wings to the Kingdom, both inscribed. You give the best autographs. So I now have shiny signed Cherie Priest books and devil ducks and marbles, and I really think those are wee little mummy-men. The duck army is currently guarding my marbles from the onslaught of the rampaging undead (and I'm guarding the ducks from the Fish; they're just her size, and she's convinced they were meant to be cat toys). The books are just sitting here where I can look at them and gloat occasionally.
So, thanks, guys! I was starting to feel a little funny wrapping all these damn presents and never getting to open one.
At any rate, indulge me: In the spirit of strange gifts given and received, what's the weirdest thing you ever got as a present, and what's the weirdest thing you've ever given? I'd love to hear! Can anyone beat a box of dog dicks?
. . .
On second thought, I know you guys. Don't you answer that literally.
The internet has proved its worth yet again tonight, enabling me to procure mail-order dog peckerbones for a reasonable price, and without leaving the house. With a fateful click, the end of my holiday shopping is in sight. Soon an unsuspecting FedEx man will be depositing a box containing the mortal remains of man's best friend's best friend on my doorstep. The wild canine penis bone project should be complete in time for the big day.
I trust that none of you will, you know, tell my dad that I'm buying him a bunch of dicks for Christmas. I sort of want it to be a surprise. A nice surprise, though. Shadowboxed and all that.
On a less morbid and bonerific note, thank you, Cherie, David, for the package! An uncorrected proof of Dreadful Skin, and Wings to the Kingdom, both inscribed. You give the best autographs. So I now have shiny signed Cherie Priest books and devil ducks and marbles, and I really think those are wee little mummy-men. The duck army is currently guarding my marbles from the onslaught of the rampaging undead (and I'm guarding the ducks from the Fish; they're just her size, and she's convinced they were meant to be cat toys). The books are just sitting here where I can look at them and gloat occasionally.
So, thanks, guys! I was starting to feel a little funny wrapping all these damn presents and never getting to open one.
At any rate, indulge me: In the spirit of strange gifts given and received, what's the weirdest thing you ever got as a present, and what's the weirdest thing you've ever given? I'd love to hear! Can anyone beat a box of dog dicks?
. . .
On second thought, I know you guys. Don't you answer that literally.