Tag Archives: High Noon

You Have No Idea What’s in Store

But if you click this link, you’ll find out!

That’s right! In the name of Christmas, Consumerism, and Feeding Ourselves, we’ve sold out to the all-powerful Zazzle, crafting for your purchasing pleasure such wonderful items as the fabled PUN shirt and probably some other stuff, too. I slapped them together around 7am by appropriating Sam’s artwork without permission, then promptly fell asleep, so I make no promises concerning the quality of whatever enticing items you may find over there.

I’d like to say the whole thing was my idea, but mostly I just saw perennial teammates, nemeses, and competitors Peas & Cougars and Live Nerd Repeat do it, and like a gangster of the blogging world, I wanted a piece o’ the action. I witnessed the glory of their creations and decided it was time that I, too, made you an offer you couldn’t refuse, but instead of it being because of the threat of death, it’s thanks to the low, low prices! They’re not really that low—apparently orange shirts are ungodly expensive for some reason. I can only assume that the dye was squeezed from the wings of monarch butterflies with diamond-crusted wing-clamps wielded by a veritable army of elves cloaked in the hides of giant pandas.

When my imagination thinks rarity, it obviously goes to a very dark place that seems to be rather dangerous for animals.

Anyway, that whole cop week thing was an exhausting experiment for all of us. Nobody wants to read that much of my writing, especially me, so this is our post for this week, and we’ll come back in full force on December 20th with a holiday post that will knock your stockings off, and, if you attempt to rehang them over the mantel, will knock them off again.

If for some crazy reason you do decide to throw away your hard-earned money on novel trinkets of little use, keep in mind that because of our laziness, you only have like 72 hours before the satellite countdown reaches zero and the aliens attack, Frank Miller rides into town, lightning strikes the clock tower, the bus runs out of fuel and drops below 50 mph, and shipments will no longer arrive in time for Christmas.

So give into the madness quickly, cause this train is about to leave the station, and you won’t be able to get on board until the next stop, which is as far away as the distance of simile, and that, my friends, is like traveling to Andromeda by ladder.

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