I am a genius when it comes to prezzies, I must say.
I solved the problem of not wanting to bake cookies or buy wine for the neighbors, many of whom are as old and fat and abstemious as I am and whose houses are as jammed with crap as mine, by reading the list of local charities in the paper today and deciding to give each a tiny amount in the name of each of the neighbors. As I was going to donate anyway, and perhaps blow off the neighbors, which I don't really want to do, this kills two birds with one stone and, like, feels the lurv.
As for Jack Daniels, who is, I have decided, the most toxic person I've ever met, and I've known dozens very well, I was going to give him a copy of Feeling Good and a list of cog therapists/spin-dry artists in the city.
Then I was going to make the lump of coal featured in this month's Martha, but it's too much energy for someone who is already a brain-sucking energy vampire. Finally, I decided to give him toasting forks for marshmallows and weenies, hehehe, which is something both I and F want, hehehe, and also to give him one of the little cards that says a donation has been made in his name. I carefully chose the charity which shall be his: Share Your Care Adult Day Services: Provides day services for frail, elderly and disabled adults.
I chose the charity before I thought how perfect it would be for Daniels, so there's not really too much blood money involved. There's an ice floe, Jack, and it's leaving the station. Be on it.
Now for the good stuff. My artistic hiphop godson, who is now a man of eleven, is getting this $20 vest from the army surplus store.

http://www.armynavymilitarysurplus.com/index.cfm?action=cat.prodInfo&productID=4067&categoryID=979
Each of its eight pockets shall be filled with something ravishing from Dick Blick, which has the best stocking stuffers EVAR. The Noahman will be getting a pocket set of Prismacolor Verithins, a matching Prismacolor pencil sharpener, a pocket size Moleskine sketchbook, a four-and-a-half inch pcoket watercolor palette, a little plastic bottle for the water, and, of course, a Swiss Army knife. The other pockets shall be filled with bubblegum and the cartridge holders across the front with candy canes. One pocket shall have the little card that says a donation of art supplies has been made in his name to Casa Angelica: the residential facility for kids and young adults with profound developmental disabilities.
And he is probably old enough now to have a black bandanna to go with the knife.
I may have to get me one of these set-ups.
I have lighted upon the perfect prezzies for Internet friends, for genocide colleagues (raspberry chile ginger jam), and for young X, who loves mustard, and my beloved real estate agent, the gayest man in the universe.
The children and the real estate agents are the only ones getting real prezzies this year. M, the spider-eating boy, is getting a very nice art poster of spideys and the Caldecott medal book of stories about Anansi, the trickster spider. His older bro is getting a coin sorter and a coloring book about economics, as I recall when I was four I thought strictly about money and death. They're important.
I solved the problem of not wanting to bake cookies or buy wine for the neighbors, many of whom are as old and fat and abstemious as I am and whose houses are as jammed with crap as mine, by reading the list of local charities in the paper today and deciding to give each a tiny amount in the name of each of the neighbors. As I was going to donate anyway, and perhaps blow off the neighbors, which I don't really want to do, this kills two birds with one stone and, like, feels the lurv.
As for Jack Daniels, who is, I have decided, the most toxic person I've ever met, and I've known dozens very well, I was going to give him a copy of Feeling Good and a list of cog therapists/spin-dry artists in the city.
Then I was going to make the lump of coal featured in this month's Martha, but it's too much energy for someone who is already a brain-sucking energy vampire. Finally, I decided to give him toasting forks for marshmallows and weenies, hehehe, which is something both I and F want, hehehe, and also to give him one of the little cards that says a donation has been made in his name. I carefully chose the charity which shall be his: Share Your Care Adult Day Services: Provides day services for frail, elderly and disabled adults.
I chose the charity before I thought how perfect it would be for Daniels, so there's not really too much blood money involved. There's an ice floe, Jack, and it's leaving the station. Be on it.
Now for the good stuff. My artistic hiphop godson, who is now a man of eleven, is getting this $20 vest from the army surplus store.
http://www.armynavymilitarysurplus.com/index.cfm?action=cat.prodInfo&productID=4067&categoryID=979
Each of its eight pockets shall be filled with something ravishing from Dick Blick, which has the best stocking stuffers EVAR. The Noahman will be getting a pocket set of Prismacolor Verithins, a matching Prismacolor pencil sharpener, a pocket size Moleskine sketchbook, a four-and-a-half inch pcoket watercolor palette, a little plastic bottle for the water, and, of course, a Swiss Army knife. The other pockets shall be filled with bubblegum and the cartridge holders across the front with candy canes. One pocket shall have the little card that says a donation of art supplies has been made in his name to Casa Angelica: the residential facility for kids and young adults with profound developmental disabilities.
And he is probably old enough now to have a black bandanna to go with the knife.
I may have to get me one of these set-ups.
I have lighted upon the perfect prezzies for Internet friends, for genocide colleagues (raspberry chile ginger jam), and for young X, who loves mustard, and my beloved real estate agent, the gayest man in the universe.
The children and the real estate agents are the only ones getting real prezzies this year. M, the spider-eating boy, is getting a very nice art poster of spideys and the Caldecott medal book of stories about Anansi, the trickster spider. His older bro is getting a coin sorter and a coloring book about economics, as I recall when I was four I thought strictly about money and death. They're important.