Bountiful bon bon booty

Exciting times are these! Check out my bon bon haulage. As you can see, these were no skankarse bon bons: these were refined bon bons, from a reputable store with cardboard inserts for structural integrity. The hats, though pointy and slightly thirteenth century, were sparkly gold, and I can't be certain but I think they were scented?

And how about those prizes! All some kind of light-weight, space age, NASA developed metal/silver coated plastic. All fitting prizes and sizes... for Tinkerbell and her Oompaloompah consort sailing around on their teeny weeny sea-worthy plastic ship from my December 22nd bon bon.

When Tinks and her crew arrive we're gonna spend some quality time locking and unlocking the teeny lock, cutting weeny crescents in leftover Christmas paper with the teeny nail clippers, and opening weeny bottles of beer then drinking them from thimbles.

What a way to spend a year; only 364 days to go, peeps.

Why Christmas lights are just wrongness

Sorry to so badly and baldly cheat today (busy brain-hurty work day ahead), but in lieu of actual stuff-stuff I thought I'd bring you a quick example (from the SMH) of Why Christmas Makes Ordinarily Good People Go Bad:

"A Melbourne couple have told police they had so many children with them, it took them 14 hours to realise their five-year-old son had been left at a Christmas lights display late at night.

The boy, Alexander, was discovered wandering alone at 11.30pm (AEDT) on Sunday night in a street in Vermont South after his family had gone to look at the lights.

However, it took his parents until lunchtime on Monday to realise he was missing and contact police."

And:

"Each parent thought the other had Alexander in their car for the trip home."

And:

"They've got home and all piled out and the kids have gone straight to bed and they didn't realise anything was amiss until lunchtime today," The Age quoted Sgt Williams as saying."

"[The boy] told police his name was Alexander, but could not tell them his surname or where he lived."

Poor little tiger. He should at least learn his surname so he can fill out those child divorce papers.

Schlocking filler

On a recent expedition to a shopping mall I found what is possibly the naffest Christmas present ever.

This object, brimming with naffness, is a game, and while I'm ordinarily a big fan of games there are some games that by their very nature indicate a level of softness in the brainal region of anyone who plays them. This is one of those soft-serve-brain games.

If only this little game had some of the smarts of Monopoly or even the straight-laced sass of noughts and crosses, but no, this little puppy was sniffing Clag with Connect Four when they were handing out game cred.

So what is this disappointing middle-child of the game world? That's right, folks, it's a delightful and oh-just-so-cute Christmas Conversation Starter game!

I figure the only way to win this game is to try and find a conversation stopper to each of the conversation starters. Shall we have a crack?

1. What's your favourite Christmas tradition? Shooting reindeer, and kittens.

2. Who would you most like to kiss under the mistletoe? L. Ron Hubbard.

3. I'd never laughed as much at Christmas as when... the dog got drunk and wouldn't stop sniffing everyone's groins.

4. My guilty pleasure at Christmas is... getting the dog drunk.

There's also a Love Conversation Starter! I can't wait for Valentine's Day: "If I saw you walking down the street I'd think..."

Deck the halls... with gilded bon bons

You always know that Christmas day is getting really close when you crack your first bon bon for the season.

Bon bons are like the big guns of the whole Christmas shin-dig thingo, and their appearance at table-based festivities means the serious Christmas shenanigans are about to begin.

By law, bon bons cannot be cracked before December 18; pulling out a box of bon bons for a Christmas party on December 2 would be like Napoleon sending in his archers before war has been declared. It's just not right.

In fact, you can tell how close we are to Christmas day by the frequency of bon bon pullage and the quality of said bon bons.

Yesterday (the 19th) I pulled a bon bon that was modestly sized with an inch-high plastic ship (not sea worthy) for a prize. It was pretty much just a toilet roll with some newspaper wrapped around it with some gold stuff stuck on. And the joke? It was a joke entirely suitable to a December 19 bon bon: what clothing does a house wear? Address! Awwww haw haw haw.

The December 19 bon bon is one that comes in a pack of 30 that's been stored on the lower shelves at the $2 shop. It's the little flag bearer that rides out before the army: pretty innocuous in itself but signalling big things to come.

The December 22 bon bons are a slightly different story. It's getting more serious by December 22 because The Day is nearly here, but while December 22 gatherings are Significant, they're not the Big Christmas Cheese itself.

So the December 22 bon bon cracks delightfully and appropriately with the friendliest tug from your neighbour, the little plastic ship is almost sea worthy (with room for Tinkerbell or a very small Oompaloompah), and the word-play of the joke is a tiny step above that of the December 19 joke: what shakes and sits at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck!

The December 22 bon bon is the foot soldier of the bon bon world: hard-working and fearless but not the glittering leader.

The bon bons that come out on Christmas day are often worthy of immediate pre-posthumous memorialisation. They are gigantic, threaded with gold leaf and most often studded with diamonds. They are worth more than the average black market kidney and are delivered by guards in armoured vans just moments before the bon bonage begins.

When you crack one of these babies open it's like Kerry Packer has left the front door to his house wide open and his safes unlocked. The paper hat is so well constructed you could wear it to the cricket, and the prize wouldn't look out of place on a chain around your neck. And the joke? Why did Phil fall off his bike? Because he was a goldfish!

Ok, so no matter what the date or the price, the jokes don't get any better, and hurrah for that!