Yesterday, you may have seen a post about how I was canceling the site’s Christmas season due to time-and-other constraints.
As you can see, that post is no longer here. And we have a solid argument from Dino Drac to thank.
“I know you’re busy, but I just got a giant python. You sure you want to waste that?”
Turns out, I don’t.
Dino Drac, you should be a salesman. I see you going door to door with a briefcase full of chocolate bars. You’ll lie about how the proceeds go to some made up charity. Deep down, nobody will believe you, but show me the man who will cast stones at a briefcase-carrying tyrannosaurus. We’ll be rich.
Anyway, the snake.
It is LARGE. It’s hard to tell when the thing is all curvy, but if stretched into a straight line, we’d see that this python is easily a six-footer.
“It’s squirming all over the place. How am I supposed to contain it?”
Good question, Dino Drac. Maybe you aren’t. It’s better to give than to receive, right? Well, now you can grant freedom to a giant snake. Later, when it’s out in the forest with an adolescent mongoose halfway down its throat, it will remember you fondly.
“I think I’d rather keep it in a box.”
Yeah. That’s why you’re a more fitting mascot for the site’s Halloween season.
Okay, NOW things are starting to feel like Christmas.
Today’s gift is a complete DINOSAUR SKELETON, which arrived in pieces for Dino Drac to put together. (As you might imagine, that was a macabre image. In human hands it would have only seemed like an archaeological process, but Dino Drac looked more like an undertaker.)
He’s afraid to guess at what type of dinosaur these bones once belonged to, and so am I. It’s not that we don’t have theories. There are simply too many dinosaurs that look like this. I consider myself a huge dinosaur fan, and Dino Drac *is* a dinosaur. Neither one of us can afford to be wrong.
It was with those apprehensions that we settled on calling it a Somethingsaurus.
We estimate the height of Somethingsaurus at a solid ten feet. He was probably a carnivorous predator, though this assumption was mostly based on us not wanting our bony pal to have been a lame scavenger, or worse, a plant-eating pacifist who wreaked no havoc.
Dino Drac isn’t big on non sequiturs, but his next question throws me for a loop: “What are those little drumstick things people use to play xylophones?”
“Look at this guy’s ribcage. I hope Playmobil gives me a xylophone mallet tomorrow.”
Good call, Dino Drac.
It’s Friday. Fantastic freakin’ Friday. I’m so looking forward to having time to put more on the site than bad doodles and pictures of plastic shovels. But, since it is not the weekend yet, I must do what is necessary to survive:
That’s a Christmas tree trunk. You know, the part you slice off before setting the tree into its base. Apparently, those specific “cut pieces” are called “butts.” I can assure you that I will NEVER call them that. “Log,” okay. “Butt?” Never. I’m sticking with trunk.
Some people were sticklers about getting the wishbone from the Thanksgiving turkey. Me? I was much more focused on hunks of Christmas tree wood. Even if I typically misplaced those hunks within five hours, I just adored the idea of keeping mementos of dead Christmas trees.
Plus, for a while at least, they stunk of pine and were sticky-in-a-fun-way.
Today we pay tribute to the cut parts of Christmas tree trunks. Cheers, trunky.
A shovel, a pickaxe and a hatchet.
Joy to the world.
You can tell by Dino Drac’s forced smile that he’s not a big fan of these. And sure, I admit that this year’s Playmobil gifts are starting to feel like someone just raided their garage for passable Christmas presents.
Today, a shovel. Tomorrow, the 1986 “Chevrolet Cuties” calendar. The next day, oil.
But there’s more than meets the eye, here. Remember the theme of this Advent Calendar. “Dinosaur Expedition.” It stands to reason that we might need to excavate something. These seem like just the right tools to do that with.
He puts down the gifts, and shoots me “the look.” I’ve seen it before. Without a word, I’ve been called an asshole, a derelict and a stupid jerkface. It stings. Dino Drac’s bark is almost as bad as his bite.
Easy there, tiger. I have a strong suspicion that we’ll need those tools. I sense that BONES may be on the horizon. And I don’t mean like, chicken bones.
Dino Drac: You’re about to dig up your great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa.
Over on Dino Drac’s Facebook page, several readers obliged me with suggestions for a painted-at-work Christmas montage. Here’s what I had time for. (Actually, in no way, shape or form did I have time for this – but I did it anyway. You can’t fire a freelancer. You can only pretend he died.)
1. Estelle Getty, dressed as Dinosaur Dracula, dressed as Santa Claus. (Suggested by Jeff S.)
2. McDonald’s legendary Holiday Pie, with its wonderful circus sprinkles. I’d love to review this for real, but the all of the McD’s restaurants around here treat me like a crazy person when I ask about it. (Suggested by Louis Q.)
3. Crystal from Roseanne, sadly drinking a glass of Cranberry Sierra Mist. (Another suggestion from Jeff S.)
4. An argument with an older relative about politics or racism. (Suggested by Jessica D.)
5. Eggnog monster. (Suggested by Clay A.)
6. Jason Voorhees topping a Christmas tree with Sally’s head. (Suggested by Bill W.)
7. Michael S. suggested “the Christmas special version of a horror franchise.” I almost followed his directions, and came up with Bellraiser, the story of a Cenobite-turned-Salvation Army guy.
8. Five golden eggs. (Suggested by Jonny L.)
9. Fruitcake creatures. (Suggested by Amber I.)
Thanks, guys. Guess I should go earn a living for an hour.
Today’s gifts include a flashlight and a pair of walkie-talkies. Hoookay.
They’re junky presents, and Dino Drac isn’t shy about telling me so. “How am I supposed to make your stupid feature successful with this kind of stuff?”
Hell, I don’t have the answers. I don’t choose the gifts. I just know that there are real honest-to-God DINOSAURS hiding in some of those boxes, and, let’s face it, everything is filler until we start seeing them.
I tell Dino Drac to “wing it.” He flaps his arms like a bird. I don’t think he’s trying to be a dick, though. Dinosaurs have horrible vocabularies, and it’s unreasonable to expect mine to know the multiple meanings of “wing.”
Finally, he gets the message. He’ll try to entertain you as best he can. The words below come directly from Dino Drac, and it’s for this reason that I shall present them in a bold red font.
WHAT I NOTICE FIRST IS THAT THIS WALKIE-TALKIE AND FLASHLIGHT HAVE VERY COMPARABLE WEIGHTS. LIKE BROTHERS FROM DIFFERENT MOTHERS. WHAT I NOTICE SECOND IS THAT THE FLASHLIGHT COULD EASILY PASS AS A NOVELTY GOBLET FOR THE GOTHIC SET. I HAVE NOT NOTICED A THIRD THING YET.
It was a good effort, Dinosaur Dracula. You winged like a pro.