Redneck To The Rescue: A Holiday Gift Guide

Every year I like to take the time to stop what I'm doing (usually stuffing my face with rumballs and cursing about enduring endless amounts of paper cuts from a marathon gift wrapping session because, sadly there are no magical elves around to do it for me even though I happen to live on the doorstep of the damn North Pole) and sit back and appreciate the magic of the holiday season.

By 'appreciate the magic of the season' I mean 'mock' my husband.

My husband is a last minute shopper. He's been known to walk the aisles of Canadian Tire at closing hour on Christmas Eve, scouring for the perfect present to place beneath our tree with my name on it.

He's been known to confuse a set of steak knives, a cork screw and a lamp for the perfect present. I have been known to get all huffy and indignant while considering hurling said knives at his head.

Hey, not every Christmas moment has to be merry.

This year is proving to be no different than the dozen or so to precede it. Days before the trigger must be pulled and Boo has not a gift to lay under the tree. I figure he must thrive on last minute pressure.  Or have rocks for brains. Either way, he's cute so I won't kick him out of my bed for eating crackers.

I like to tease my husband because he is rather sexy when he gets all hot and bothered but after listening to an assortment of friends and family worry about how they haven't finished their holiday shopping I realized I could perhaps be of service to all the last minute shoppers roaming the malls aimlessly, wandering around looking for the perfect presents to hand out Christmas morning.

So the wheels started churning (which likely accounts for the high pitch squealing my dogs keep howling at) and I put together a useful little list of gifts to grab when pressed for time and cash.

It's Redneck Mommy's Last Minute Gift Grab. Because I'm all about the giving. And this way I can mock all those last minute shoppers while feeling useful. It's a total win-win. Heh.

After careful deliberation and a barrel of wine, I decided to stick with what I know best: Books. Because everyone loves a good book, right?

(Be thankful I didn't decide to write a list about the other thing I know best: sex toys. Because I considered it. Thanks to the cheap wine my husband plied me with last night.)

For the person who loves the classics but has a sick sense of humour:



Pride and Prejudice and Zombies:  Zombie Mayhem!

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Zombie Jim: Mark Twain's Classic with Crazy Zombie Goodness

What is better than a little classic literature meshed with a little gore? It's brain candy. Heh.

*Both of these books may or may not already be under our tree because someone in this house is a wee twisted.

For the douchebag in your life:



The Quotable Douchebag: A Treasury of Spectacularly Stupid Remarks

Don't know a douchebag? Well, pass this puppy onto a person you know has been touched by a douchebag.

For the thinker who likes to laugh:



Monty Python and Philosophy: Nudge Nudge, Think Think

Who doesn't know someone who likes Monty Python? You can make them laugh and think all at once.

For the person you want to piss off:



If Democrats Had Any Brains, They'd Be Republicans

Nothing says "I really don't like you" than giving them a taste of Coulter. It's the quickest way to be passive aggressive under the guise of gift giving I can think of.

For the cartoon loving poet in your life:



Poetry Comics: An Animated Anthology

This book also doubles as a coffee table book to make you look smart for all those uninvited guests dropping in over the holiday season. Or a good way to expose your kids to the wonderful world of poetry. Either way, win!

For the creative cook (or Homer Simpson's wife):



Beer Cookbook: 101 Recipes With Beer

If you are like me, the one thing we always seem to have in our fridge is beer. Unless you are the adoption officials, which in that case, we never have a six pack of Stella Artois chilling but a drawer full of broccoli.

For the children in your life:



The Twits

I read this book when I was eight years old and it is still one of my favourites. This may explain a lot in regards to my sense of humour.



An Awesome Book

The title of this book is self-explanatory. Perhaps one of the best children's books I have read as an adult and one I frequently hand out as gifts. All three of my children own their own copy.

For that hard to buy for person:



Zombie Haiku: Good Poetry For Your...Brains

Because Zombies and haiku all in one book? It gives a whole new meaning to AWESOME.

If you have read this entire post, you now have an insight to the types of gifts my loved ones often receive. Which will either make you worship me or pity them.

Either way, my work here is done.

My Gift is My Song and This One's For You

This week has been incredibly busy what with all my solitaire playing and ignoring the mound of laundry waiting to be folded and put away.

I still haven't finished making my mother's present, nor do I have anything to put under the tree for most members of my family. Not to mention, unless I start baking some cookies soon, Santa will be getting a plate of dried turkey dog treats to munch on once he finally gets here.

There is so much to do on my to-do list I'm going to have to start writing it all down on a roll of toilet paper because I'm running out of room on my scratch pad, since I haven't had much luck in crossing any of the items off.

That said, I did get one item off my list finished.

I completed my submission for Citizen of the Month's 2009 Blogger Christmahanukwanzaakah Online Holiday Concert.

Because dammit, the laundry can wrinkle, the cookies can wait and if I don't finish my mom's present I'll just wrap up some of those dog treats for her. I have my priorities firmly in order, peoples.

And by that I mean I stopped playing solitaire long enough to wrestle into a push up bra, slap some war paint on and croon like a cat being strangled all in the name of spreading seasonal joy for another blogger's blog.

I'm a giver like that.

So if you want to watch a bunch of bloggers make total arses of themselves (with the exception of a few very talented people who like to make the rest of us all look bad) head on over to Citizen of the Month's and have a chuckle.

After all, it's not often I sit in front of my computer in a low cut shirt and yodel as though my life depends on it.

Note the boobage. I was hoping it would distract you from noticing when your ears started to bleed.

My dogs are still howling and my husband has completely lost all respect for me.

Go enjoy the carnage show.

You won't regret it.

Well, okay you might regret it. But only in that 'wow, I too have totally lost all respect for Redneck' type of way.

Just know I did this with love in my heart and no booze in my blood stream.

*Like my billiards game, my singing always drastically improves with the consumption of liquor.

I knew I should have had some irish cream in my coffee this morning.

Damn.

Your Local Hoser

Yesterday's post seemed to bring a little confusion to my gentle American friends.

Cold temperatures generally leave me a wee confused so I'm not totally surprised.

But it seems a great deal of you don't know what we Canadians put on our heads to keep our brains from freezing into ice blocks.

That would be a TOQUE people.

This is a toque:

Note the pompom on the top. Any Canuck worth their salt knows the only good toque is the toque with a fuzzy ball of yarn on the top. It's like walking around all winter season with a Christmas ornament on our skulls.

This is a Canadian keener in a toque:

Fashion means nothing when one has to brave our arctic like winter temperatures.

Warmth is the preferred currency even if it means looking like a deranged lunatic who stole a cheerleader's pompom to attach it to their head.

It's not a beanie or a hat, it's a freaking TOQUE.

Any questions?

*This public service announcement brought to you by your friendly neighbourhood Canuck hoser. Now excuse me, I need to go make some butter tarts, eat some poutine and wash it all down with some screech.*

*Bob and Doug would be so proud. Sniff.*