Yesterday I read about a million blog posts, no exaggeration. I have a little robot built into my computer, and he was all like, “You have read over one million blog posts today. You are awesome. I will try to calculate your awesomeness. … Error. Error. Insufficient capability to measure your awesomeness. Initiating correspondence to Deep Blue.”
While the little guy was typing away with his fat little robot fingers I thought about all the posts I had read. “Happy New Year” this and “I had a great Christmas” that and “Gee willickers, I sure love pickles” the other. And then everybody wrapped it up with a year in review, or some nonsense like that.
Well, I say fuck moving forward. I’m not quite ready to give up on 2006. 2007 can wait a minute for the sheets to get cold before moving in and being all like, “Hey, what’s up? I’m 2007. Do you know what that means? It means I’m one more than 2006. One bigger. So, you wanna get down with the New Year?” No! I’ll gently coddle the slowly coldening corpse of 2006 pleaseandthankyouverymuch.
That got uncomfortable fast, didn’t it? Good thing this is a TRANSITIONAL SENTENCE!
The reason I’m still stuck on 2006 is because I have a bunch of posts left from 2006, and I need to get them out before they turn all rancid like the so many bathtubs of nog I consumed. And the first post I’d like to be rid of is the aesthetic abortion of a gingerbread house that Mrs. ACW and I made.
You can see from these photos that the house is a lot crooked. We, and by we I mean my architecture hating harpy of a wife, attached the side walls to the OUTSIDE of the front piece, and the INSIDE of the back piece, which means that the roof went on unevenly, leaving huge gaps between the roof and the walls. We had only been working on it for five minutes and we were already gingerbread slumlords.
Knowing we had to do something, we decorated it, and that became a farce into and of itself. Your guess is as good as mine as to what the hell we were going for with that green and blue thing above what I suppose is a door. It was like we were polishing a turd, or putting lipstick on a pig.
And since we knew the house was going to be a horrid mess, we just went for absurd, a la Calvin and Hobbes.
What’s this? Uh, the side door? To be used by aliens? Or maybe some sort of foundation crack? Or maybe we did a terrible job making windows with the icing? Why so many question marks? I don’t know?
And since the house had generally gone up shit creek with poo for a paddle, we decided to include a murder scene. Notice the “Mr. Bill”esque expression on Gumdrops Jackson as he comes across what looks like a chalk outline, candy blood, and a gumdrop anvil that crushed the gumdrop head of Mrs. Gumdrop. Or Mrs. Jackson. I don’t know. Whatever. Shut up.
And hey, while we’re at the back of the house, why not point out the cornea-bending atrocity that was conceptualized as a stained-glass window.
Yeah. You now have to go to the eye doctor and get glasses if you didn’t have them before. And if you did have them, you have to get a special eyeball poker to make your eyes work. Sorry for hate-criming your retinas with Willy Wonka’s worst nightmares. Anyway, I realized there was no reason for the one gumdrop person to have been killed, so I made a gumdrop cat the culprit.
I was actually kind of happy with the way the cat turned out. It really made the 10 dollar gingerbread house-kit-turned-structural-abomination worthwhile.
And finally, to top it all off, I give you Dr. Suess’ buttplug, also known as the chimney.
I wanted to build it higher, but there was really no reason to make the house look worse than it already did, so we just kind of left it like that.
I felt kind of bad, because when we were kids we used to make great gingerbread houses. I guess my skills have really taken a turn for the unviewable since then. I feel better knowing that I don’t have the worst gingerbread house on the internet though. At least our gingerbread house was better than this physically and mentally handicapped retarded boy’s was.
