Because the Canadian dollar is worth the same as the US dollar for the first time in living memory, I thought I might do a bit of my shopping online this year. Anything that lets me sit in front of the computer, instead of testing my meagre patience in the malls this time of year is a bonus to everyone, believe me.
Through one of my favourite blogs (http://www.tomatonation.com/) I found this gem of a catalogue. SkyMallShopping, which, I believe, is a magazine distributed on airplanes. For those of you who cannot bear to wait until you are once again on terra firma to buy a pair of Gollum-Smeagol bookends, this is the catalogue for you.
"You know what, kids? I've been thinking, and it seems to me that you don't get nearly enough refined white sugar and artificial colourings in your diet. How be we get a Cotton Candy maker and set it up in a corner of the family room? That way, it should be easy to keep your pancreas and liver revving at a full-gallop all the live long day! And don't worry about flossing, you shouldn't have to worry about having teeth at all soon."
I'm really not much into decorating. (We live in the All Beige House.), Almost all of our furniture started out being owned by somebody else, and I'm fine with that; we're really not picky about our decor. But I draw the line at this. I don't care how much bamboo in tasteful, Zen-inspired holders you put on this, or how you surround it with leather and Oriental rugs, this is still going to be the only thing in the room that anyone is ever going to talk about. I wonder what it looks like from the back.
Sadly, this is what happens to supermodels after they run out of cocaine and their careers wither and die. 
Believe it or not, this is a clock. The catalogue assures me that it says 12:39. Can you imagine trying to do the mental gymnastics necessary to navigate this baby every morning? I already live in a house full of people who have a cavalier attitude towards time management; I can't begin to imagine what kind of mayhem would ensue with this on the kitchen wall.
Believe it or not, this is a clock. The catalogue assures me that it says 12:39. Can you imagine trying to do the mental gymnastics necessary to navigate this baby every morning? I already live in a house full of people who have a cavalier attitude towards time management; I can't begin to imagine what kind of mayhem would ensue with this on the kitchen wall.
This is called "The Litter Robot". I will automatically clean up the cat turds and replenish the litter, seconds after your cat has exited the passenger area. Now, as much as our Toby loves agood box, I can't see me persuading him to get anywhere near this thing. Toby regards the vacuum cleaner as a "Thinly Disguised Cat Dismembering Toy of Satan", and treats it with the unholy revulsion it richly deserves. I really don't think he is going to be fooled by this New Insidous Weapon of Feline Slaughter.
Okay, this thing I could actually see myself buying, if only to see the looks of "WTF" on my friends and family as they catch it coyly peeking out from behind the lilac bushes. No charming, little gnomes or delicate fairies for the Loudshoes family, we're way too hardcore for that. Our garden can only be improved by the addition of a Big Foot statue.
Happy shopping! Oh, and to my friends and family who I do buy presents for, you didn't see this.
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