This weekend, we're attempting to take a family portrait for our annual Christmas Card. We'll either look like gorgeous models, or total trainwrecks. (We never half-ass anything, we go all the way. Except for cleaning attempts: cleaning house is always done half-ass.)
Anyways, I just finished decorating my giant-sized wreath (which I love), but now I'm like "Where the fuck am I going to put this ginormous wreath?" So until I find a way to hang the wreath on the side of the house without making holes in the walls, I have to hide the wreath in Andrew's Man-cave. It's got to be put away because the cats seem to have a death wish involving eating as many glitter-covered pine cones and fake holly berries (not to be confused with fake Halle Barrys) as possible. They wouldn't last a day in the wild.
|Because they're made of plastic, and you'll die.|
Sidenote: Sorry there hasn't been any posts this past week. It's like the ridiculously small amount of daylight hours has made me all blah and meh. But I think I'm over that now.