Gorgonbread

"I'm always down for a Spice Girls reunion.

I love the Scary hair and platforms."

-- Melanie "Scary Spice" Brown

Medusa gingerbread cookie 12-25-13 

"There's nothing sadder in this world

than to awake Christmas morning

and not be a child."

-- Erma Bombeck

My son Sam and I baked cutout gingerbread cookies together, for two very specific reasons:

1. Sam wanted to eat the dough. He's been overdosing on Starbucks gingerbread lattes and wanted a hit of the real thing.

2. I wanted to make a Medusa gingerbread "man."

Our cookbook that we got the recipe from didn't call them gingerbread men, though. It called them gingerbread "people."  So our cookies weren't just delicious, they were also PC. (Which, as you probably already know, stands for "pretty cute.")

Sam likes to bake. He makes really delicious biscuits and beautiful pumpkin pies. He started "baking" when he was steady enough to stand on a chair beside me at the kitchen counter. He was about 1 1/2. I'd fold down one of my aprons and sort of swaddle him in it, then give him a bowl, some spoons and measuring cups, jars of spices, and let him go at it. He could put whatever he wanted into his bowl, and mix and stir to his heart's delight while I made muffins, or pizza crust, or cookies. I'd let him dump pre-measured cups of sugar and flour into whatever I was making. Sometimes it hit the bowl. Sometimes it hit the counter. Sometimes it hit the floor. There was usually a big mess to clean up, but it didn't matter. Being side-by-side together in the kitchen -- that's what mattered.

It still is.

Sam is all grown up. But something about baking cookies together brought back his little kid days, and that warmed me more than the heat coming from the oven or the spices in the gingerbread. While he licked batter from a spoon and piped faces and buttons on the "men," I made my Medusa cookie and cleaned up the bowls, the counter and the floor.

Some things never change.

Of course, I played with my food before I ate it:

Man. Person. Whatever.

I think I'll just call her a "Spice Girl."

Merry Christmas!

It's beginning to look a lot like XXX-mas!

"The main reason Santa is so jolly is because 

he knows where all the bad girls live."

-- George Carlin

Craft store Santa dolls 11-9-13

"I keep three hoes, but don't call me Santa."

-- Nicki Minaj, "I Get Crazy"

Craft store Santa 11-9-13

Halloween is over, which can only mean two things:

Halloween shit is on sale for 99 percent off, and Christmas shit is flooding the shelves.

I went to the craft store, innocently looking for supplies and ideas, when I came across this tawdry scene -- a horny Santa doll with his red boxers shoved down around his ankles, exposing his nether regions, with a satisfied, silly grin under his beard, standing precariously close to a slim, naked girl doll with perky plastic tits who is trying to act all nonchalant, wide-eyed and aloof, looking the other way while she slips back into her little white loafers for her walk of shame.

Who do they think they're fooling?

Sheesh. Get a room. There are children in this store.

And I thought Christmas was supposed to be all about baby Jesus.

I guess you can't really blame the old guy, though.

Just look at Mrs. Santa down there on the end of the row. She really has let herself go. I mean, she's wearing the exact same boxers as her old man. She's wearing the exact same black boots as her old man. She even has the exact same tits as her old man, for crissakes! (All she needs is a beard and mustache. She'll get there. Give her time.)

They do say couples who've been together for a long time start to look like one another. But c'mon, man.

No wonder Santa dropped trou for a plastic piece of poontang.

Or ...

The label on the skinny chick's package says she contains "quality essentials for creating!" (His says his "1 pc" is "13 inches" which I think is an exaggeration. I can't even see it.) Maybe Kris Kringle is thinking about hanging up his red suit and passing the baton (get it? Baton?) to an heir. Mrs. K is clearly post menopausal, so what's a fella to do? Maybe he invited the skinny chick back to the "workshop" to "make something."

Or maybe this Christmas, just for a change of pace, he just finally decided to get a little something he wanted.

P.S., does anyone else think it's funny that the skinny chick is buck naked, except that they gave her shoes? What the fuck?

Well, anyway. Just wanted to let you all know what kind of skanky merchandise is hanging around my local Pat Catan's. 'Tis the season.