Well, mostly. Some of this is really more groinal humor, but it’s the same broad category.
This is how lawn gnomes sleep.
It’s also how they look when they die. The difference is that when a lawn gnome dies his friends use him to plant a single daisy. Sometimes a sunflower for the bigger gnomes.
This is probably more than you wanted to know about gnomish burial practices, which are really more for the audience than the deceased. Gnomes really bury their dead for laughs.
This would make a really tacky doorstop. Or maybe you could hang wigs on it, or a particularly large and extravagant hat.
I hope that, not long after this, mom had some words with Nana. Her garment-mending was becoming way too invasive.
I’m sorry for the close-up. I felt like I was documenting something awkward and wrong. Sometimes ceramic statuettes are funny. Granted it’s rare, but “notimes” isn’t a word. I checked. This isn’t funny, though, it’s just uncomfortable. Like your guest suddenly popping off a few educational paragraphs about sex toys during Thanksgiving Dinner with the entire family, and, yes, this happens.
This, the sex toy talk, not this weird moment here. I hope this doesn’t happen.
Of course, the ultimate question is, “who’s got the bigger problem, the artist, or the guy with the camera set to “macro” taking 20 pictures of Old Mother Handzinpantz? I don’t have an answer. There is no good answer.
Awkward gnome: Goodwill on 183 and Metric. Grandma Handzinpantz: Junior League of Austin on 49th and Burnet.