Nothing Says "Festive" Like a Giant, Balding Boar's Head

Before what I'm about to share will make any sense, you have to be familiar with The Bloggess (Jenny Lawson) and the day she met - and was denied - James Garfield. Because Victor (Mr. Bloggess) hates patriotism and giant, alopecic, were-bear-boar heads. And then you have to read the post in which Victor has a change of heart - or is perhaps just worn into submission - and brings James Garfield to his rightful home.

I understand the concept of seeing something and just knowing you have to have it. It happens to me from time to time, and there's no fighting it. Don't even bother. When I decorate my Writing Lair, it will be full of all kinds of things like that. I'm currently obsessed with the butcher knife chandelier I saw last year at the Hell's Kitchen in Duluth.

(There are no words to accurately describe the magnitude of the fantabulousness, or how happy this stab-tastic decorative accent makes me.)

Since I'm sure they aren't willing to part with it, I'm going to have to make my own. In the near future, I'm going to start scavenging through antique stores for a suitable chandelier and a whole bunch of old, well-worn, scary-stabby-looking knives. Bonus points if they have unidentifiable stains.

When I discovered that The Bloggess was offering to send holiday cards featuring James Garfield to a limited number of faithful readers, I didn't even hesitate. "Hi Jenny, it's me. Here's my address. Please send James Garfield card immediately if not sooner. Love, Lori." Or something like that.

I got my card this week. It is the only holiday card I'm putting up, so if you were thinking of sending me one, save yourself a stamp. My Grinch is holding James Garfield, and he's so huge in his awesomeness that there's not room for any more cards.

(James Garfield, with his metaphorical halls most creatively bedecked.)


(And... this is exactly the kind of card The Bloggess would create. Exactly.)


(Do not try to burgle my card. Grinch is guarding it, and he will mess you up. This is the pre-heart-growing-in-size Grinch. You know, when he was still all Grinchy and cool.)

No, I did not send cards this year. Again. Tom sent some to his people, but until I have my butcher knife chandelier, which I can decorate with tinsel and broken ornaments and make my own James-Garfield-worthy card, I don't see much point.