You cannot possibly understand his or her pain.
I mean, have you tried to be tragic and pale when you’re so obviously a “summer”? These are real problems, people. You can’t wear black velvet when you have gold hair. Also, “Sisters of Mercy” are seriously underrepresented in the 1986 Hymnal.
When in doubt, layer on that base with a trowel. Just keep applying it in thin layers until you’ve got a foundation that’s maybe a half-inch thick. Then wet a paper towel, lay it over your face, gently touch with a feathery hand, and remove–that’s how you get that unusual golf ball texture that was so big after Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before PGA Tournament came out.
I really should have bought them. They would be the only Christmas ornaments I own–maybe have ever seen–with their mascara running.
Except for the Tammy Faye Bakker Nativity Set, which was amazing.
Gaze into pure yuletide horror. If this is what Santa has to come home to, no wonder he stops at almost every house in the world on his way home. Yerk, that face.
I think she might actually be an alien. Not human. Which would explain her strangely glasslike ornamental chest covering. It’s to protect her exposed frembulator from the harsh purple and indigo of our star spectrum. The little green thing is seasonal decoration. Like parsley.
Three strange probes emerge from the green stocking filled with a dark, unknown liquid. Sensing your curiosity, she chitters amiably. The sound is part insectile, part the harsh grating of metal on metal, part the melodic intonations of Fran Drescher. Perhaps this is comforting. Perhaps she is singing a Christmas greeting in her own language.
Strange light and a cloud of smoke emanate from the base of her Mickey Mouse Hoverplatform as she takes to the sky, the stanza from the secret “Night Before Christmas” the Vatican doesn’t want you to know about.
Choirboi from Salvation Army near Metric and 183, Horrid Mrs Claus from Goodwill on 2222 and Lamar, Austin