I told you guys to stop me. You can’t say you weren’t warned this would happen. Ohhhh, man.
Emboldened by the Crescat’s contest and your delighted reaction to my previous hilarious tacky nativity scenes, I pushed past my initial fear and kept searching through the dark and terrible world beyond the Kitsch. Now I’ve found it. (Like Arthur Dent, I never could get the hang of Thursdays. )
Something’s out there… Something creepy… Something like… like…
Fee! Fi! Fo! Fitsch!
I smell some giant Christmas Kitsch!
Yes… it’s literally made of cheese, making all possible bad puns redundant!
For directions to make your own ghastly cheese nativity, you can read this article on the Channel 4 Food Blog. I’m past even trying to say something funny.
The true meaning of Christmas is out there, Scully…
It gets better: it’s a musical! You can read a review (two stars out of five) here.
“Also, there is no clear reference to the purpose of Jesus’ birth…” (Ya think?)
And that, Virginia, is why you should never do drugs. Any questions?
(Ow, my consciousness.)
And for the grand finale, one that really seriously creeped me out. Heebie-jeebie city. You have been warned….
It’s the Nativity Scene, and trees, and stockings, and wreaths…
Made entirely of human hair.
With an accompanying video.
heeby heeby jeeby jeeby jibbly jibbly no no no no oh no oh no oh yuck oh my heeby heeby jeeby jeeby get it off get it off get it off oh my eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
(Is it gone? Can I look? I’m still safe here under the bed, right? right?… Scully?)
That’s it. This Kitschmas party is over. I’m hanging up the Santa hat and from now on I promise only to post about nice happy things like ponies and rainbows and hearts and daffodils. I’m so sorry.
Though I think I may be persuaded to share some more holiday cheer once I’m sure it’s safe to come out from under the bed…