About 8 years ago I got a Soldier/Prince Nutcracker as a Christmas present from my boss. I admit that I was disappointed initially because I had hoped for money. Instead I got this foot and half stupid nutcracker and I didn’t even like walnuts. I brought it home and my boys pounced on it. They were simply fascinated by it. I got suckered into going to the grocery store specifically to buy walnuts so the little heathens could test it out. Pull out the jaw, place the nut in, shove the jaw back in, and pound down on the head and presto – walnut pulverized to smithereens; they were hooked, bag after bag, Christmas after Christmas. This year, The Last Amazon dug out the box of Christmas decorations on Advent and the Nutcracker Prince is a little worse for wear. He’s lost his boots, the paint is wearing off and his jaw is barely hanging on. One walnut later and his jaw dropped off. I would have thought that 8 years of pounding and the boys would have had enough but as it turns out, they want a new Nutcracker. Who would have thought? Go figure. Now I have to hunt for a new one.
And Dr. Monger, your problem is not a lack of culture but a failure of imagination. Dumbest, worst Christmas present ever: battery operated nose hair clipper currently on sale at Bentley’s for $6.99. Why would anyone want to stick an electric clipper up inside a nostril?
Years ago when I use to go out to the nightclubs with my girlfriends I would be approached by men and eventually they would ask me what I did. At first, I never thought anything of saying dancer. This would inevitably bring on the – are you really? No, come on, what do you really do? Show me something. One night, one man was making a particular pest of himself with his cynicism and his lack of appreciation for classical ballet. I tried to explain that ballet was about beauty and form, about emotion and sexuality. He just wasn’t getting it. So I hiked up my dress, leaned against the bar, lifted up my leg straight up in the air and rotated my leg till it was behind my head. Before you could blink, Colleen and I were six deep in men at the bar and never had to buy a drink after that. From that time on, whenever I went out with the girls, they were the ones pestering me to do the leg thingy.
And that is why the King of Snow wears pants that tight.