For those of you that have high self esteem, you can now purchase the Butt Face towel available from your friends at Publishers Clearing House. Yep, it's just a reminder every morning of the ridicule and harsh words your elementary classmates threw your way growing up. Order now and receive the Jack Ass wash rag set, plus the I'm A Huge Tool shower curtain. Your whole bathroom can gleam of insults and your morning routine in the bathroom will change the way you look at your day, and yourself!
Guaranteed to lower confidence, spur depression, and send you in a downward spiral, all before your morning cup of coffee!
Showing posts with label Bad Gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bad Gifts. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Gifts that will not be forgotten
My Great Grandma Goodenough (God rest her soul) use to send me and my cousins boxes of random things growing up. I believe she intended them as gifts and perhaps even thought we might use the items. Sometimes these gift packs were for a specific holiday and sometimes we just got them out of the blue.
You see, my grandma was a garage sale shopper. She always liked to find a deal, even if it wasn't really a deal. I once went along with her to find these gems. That particular day, she bought some plastic figurines which she later super-glued to the dashboard of her 1978 Chevy Caprice. She also tried on some used lipstick at one of the garage sales, but decided it wasn't her color and put it back.
When I was in college, my entire dorm floor would gather around when I got a box from her because the contents were always so random. For instance, one Christmas, I got a white knit stocking cap (made for a child or perhaps even an infant - keep in mind, I was about 18 years old). The best part was after talking with my brother, who was 6'4" 260lb college football player, I found out he scored with the matching infant gloves in his box. Yeah, grandma never really had a good concept of the type of things we might actually enjoy or use, but she kept trying; and kept sending, again and again.
We got everything you can imagine from garage sales across Iowa, from dirty stuffed animals, to kitchen utensils, to food that was often in a questionable state by the time it arrived at our house.
Perhaps some of the best and most memorable gifts was a bright red sweatshirt with a giant screen printed teddy bear on the front. The teddy bear print had a great big smile, open arms, and was surrounded by pink and blue hearts. At the top, it said, "I need a hug." I would have been killed instantly if I would have worn it anywhere.
But I think my all-time favorite gift, which I regret now not holding onto for memory sake, was a baby-blue mesh hat, with the words carefully embroidered on the front, "My love belongs to my Daddy." As an added touch, my name was thoughtfully airbrushed above the words.
At times, we questioned her sanity and would try to visit her so she could see how old we actually were with the hope that it might sink in that she was sending us stuff we could never use. Unbelievably, despite her poor judgment on picking gifts out for us, she always remembered exactly what she sent each of the grandkids. Needless to say, it was always awkward when she asked me face-to-face how I liked the teddy bear sweatshirt, customized faux trucker hat, and kitchen accessories.
You see, my grandma was a garage sale shopper. She always liked to find a deal, even if it wasn't really a deal. I once went along with her to find these gems. That particular day, she bought some plastic figurines which she later super-glued to the dashboard of her 1978 Chevy Caprice. She also tried on some used lipstick at one of the garage sales, but decided it wasn't her color and put it back.
When I was in college, my entire dorm floor would gather around when I got a box from her because the contents were always so random. For instance, one Christmas, I got a white knit stocking cap (made for a child or perhaps even an infant - keep in mind, I was about 18 years old). The best part was after talking with my brother, who was 6'4" 260lb college football player, I found out he scored with the matching infant gloves in his box. Yeah, grandma never really had a good concept of the type of things we might actually enjoy or use, but she kept trying; and kept sending, again and again.
We got everything you can imagine from garage sales across Iowa, from dirty stuffed animals, to kitchen utensils, to food that was often in a questionable state by the time it arrived at our house.
Perhaps some of the best and most memorable gifts was a bright red sweatshirt with a giant screen printed teddy bear on the front. The teddy bear print had a great big smile, open arms, and was surrounded by pink and blue hearts. At the top, it said, "I need a hug." I would have been killed instantly if I would have worn it anywhere.
But I think my all-time favorite gift, which I regret now not holding onto for memory sake, was a baby-blue mesh hat, with the words carefully embroidered on the front, "My love belongs to my Daddy." As an added touch, my name was thoughtfully airbrushed above the words.
At times, we questioned her sanity and would try to visit her so she could see how old we actually were with the hope that it might sink in that she was sending us stuff we could never use. Unbelievably, despite her poor judgment on picking gifts out for us, she always remembered exactly what she sent each of the grandkids. Needless to say, it was always awkward when she asked me face-to-face how I liked the teddy bear sweatshirt, customized faux trucker hat, and kitchen accessories.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Blocks of wood make great gifts

I think I was about 11 years old and I had this cool box car kit. It came with wheels, nails to put the wheels on, and a wood block. It sat in my drawer for a long time until I decided that I was going to put it to good use and make a really cool, homemade gift for my older brother, Chad. He is my only sibling, which is unfortunate, because he got lots of crappy gifts from me and had no other source for gifts except my parents.
So, I started on my project. I went out to the garage and started carefully shaving wood chunks off what was meant to be the front of the car. Thankfully, I had my trusty cub scout pocket knife to assist me, but after carving off the edges to create my masterpiece (a grueling 20 minutes or so) I realized it was going to be pretty hard work and it was going to take a while. I decided I needed a break and went inside for a glass of lemonade. Unfortunately, I never worked on it again and before I knew it Christmas had rolled around. So, I put the wheels on (but I did that wrong because they didn't actually turn) and wrapped it up (actually, I think I had my mom wrap it). I didn't paint it. I didn't draw cool logos on it. I just ... put the wheels on. It didn't even look like a car. It looked like a piece of wood that had been used as a door jam for a while ... and then someone ... put wheels on it. As you can expect, it wasn't his favorite Christmas. Sorry Chad.
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