Guys, today is probably the last day to order cards if you want them in time for Xmas. I say probably because I don’t work for the USPS but I use them a lot and know how UNPREDICTABLE they can be. For instance, a few weeks ago, someone bought $100 worth of cards from me. We shipped them PRIORITY MAIN in a sturdy box. A few days later, the customer contacted me because the tracking number said they had been delivered at her door, when they definitely had not been.

I was freaking out about this, but then the next day, she reached out to tell me that they had been delivered to the wrong house and had person was honest and kind enough to bring them to her! And by wrong house I mean that it was the same house number, but DIFFERENT STREETS AND ZIP CODES.

Yeah.

Anyway, I could make an entire series bitching about the USPS but I’m trying to be a better person.

On that note, here is a selection of serial killer holiday cards, ha ha.

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1. Jeffrey Dahmer

What better way to sprinkle friends, family, and enemies with holiday cheer than by tucking a card from my Serial Killer Series into their garland-wrapped mailbox?

The mug of Milwaukee’s beloved is sure to slap a smile on faces, especially when accompanied by such a heart-warming holiday poem. Envelope included!

2. HH Holmes

HH Holmes was a real nefarious fellow, and is considered to be America’s first serial killer. He would lure victims into his murder castle, which was full of mazes, stretching racks, and gas chambers. But damn if he doesn’t look dapper on the front of a Christmas card.

This card would be great for anesthesiologists, people who write fanfic about the Chicago World Fair, or anyone you know who uses the term “Holmes” as a synonym for “friend.”

It comes with an envelope, which you can lace with fruit cake if you want. I won’t tell.

3. Carl Panzram

When Carl Panzram was 14, he was gang-raped by a group of hobos. He then grew up to murder 21 people and sodomize 1000s of men. Hell hath no fury like a man violated by hobos.
Give this card to your favorite person to let them know that this is not the future you want for them. It’s a really sweet card when you think about it!

This card comes with an envelope, which you can either use to mail the card in or light it on fire a la Mr. Panzram, who also dabbled in arson.

4. Ed Gein

The inside says: “Come trim a tree with me!”

(Sorry, I didn’t feel like getting a picture of the inside. I’m L-Z.)

Santa, snowmen, baby Jesus in a manger? Holiday cards are played out. This season, revive the spirit of your favorite serial killer by having these cards stuffed (like a dead hooker in a dumpster) in the mailslots of those you care about.

5. Aileen Wuornos

Need a date to your office holiday party and have no idea how you’re going to ask that vagabond who’s been popping a squat behind the hardware shop for the last 4 months, drinking dog urine out of an old tin can of baked beans?

Might you consider utilizing the wily charm of Aileen Wuornos to do the deed for you.

Or maybe you’re looking to spread holiday cheer to that whore at the DMV who made you look like a triple-chinned stroke victim who lost a battle with electricity in your last drivers license photo.

Measures approx. 5X7″; comes with an envelope – we keep it classy over here.

6. Killer Group!

Ho ho ho, the gang’s all here for this merry holiday card, sure to delight even your most heathen-iest of friends. Etsy: where you can find a goddamn greeting card for just about everyone.

This card boasts the avuncular mug of Gary Ridgeway, David Berkowitz’s bashful smile, the cute & cuddly Jeffrey Dahmer, BTK’s friendly smirk, and Ted Bundy’s aw-shucks face. Perfect for the true crime aficionado, Satan worshiper, or that good little Christian you just can’t help effing with.

Comes with an envelope. Pentagram not included.

7. Typhoid Mary

Mmm, Christmas cookies abound in the office! Next time you deep throat a Lady Lock, ask yourself, “Did Mary from the mail room Purell her shit before rolling out the dough?” Your bowels will answer that more honestly than Mary. Send this card to your loved ones to let them know that obviously you want them to have a great holiday, but you also sincerely hope they don’t get food poisoning tied with a bow.

Mary didn’t mean to kill all those people, you guys. She just made a fucking killer secret sauce. I bet her Christmas cookies were the shit.

Comes with an envelope that I handled with clean hands, but I totally won’t be offended if you seal it with masking tape instead of your own saliva.

8. BTK

When you already have a shit ton of plastic zip ties, why not put them to good use?

This totally festive card comes with an envelope, which also could fit a floppy disk full of evidence, if needed.

*************

All of these and more can be found at non compos cards!

True to form, we got to Silver Dollar City right as it opened at noon. Henry LOVED the fact that they have a FREE PARKING LOT with trams so you don’t have to pay $25 on top of the already exorbitant ticket price. I was really concerned while we were sitting on the tram, waiting to depart for the entrance, because it was almost unbearably cold. The weather was allegedly around 38 degrees that day, but the windchill was a fucking Ice Queen. And Chooch almost forgot to bring a jacket AND packed all t-shirts, but thankfully we were only 10 minutes from home on Saturday when it occurred to me to inquire about his coat situation, and then he had a random flannel in the trunk.

Not that it mattered because Henry still had to go to the local Branson Target once we arrived that night in order to buy the dumb kid gloves. Mr. I Don’t Get Cold. Yeah, right. He’d have perished at Silver Dollar City in jeans, t-shirt, and bare hands!

For as much as we travel, you’d think we’d be better at packing. Nope.

You’d also think we’d be better at not leaving things behind in hotels. Nope x2.

As soon as the tram dropped us off (Chooch and I waved to other tram-drivers that passed us by on the way because we’re both in preschool and get super-kicks out of receiving reciprocal waves), we joined the small crowd at the entrance JUST as they were announcing that the gates were opening! Woo! Security was a breeze because only Henry was carrying a purse (lol) so we didn’t have much to be checked. However, I was low-key panicking because Henry the Dishonest LIED when he purchased the tickets online and bought the child’s ticket for Chooch who is TWO YEARS out of the age range for such a ticket!

“No one is going to know, and if they say something, I’ll pay the extra $10—it’s NOT A BIG DEAL,” Henry kept saying. But to me, it was! I never try to cheat the system! But Henry kept saying, “I’M NOT RIDING ANYTHING ANYWAY BECAUSE OF MY BACK SO IT ALL WORKS OUT” but I don’t think they have “bad back trade offs” at amusement parks!

So we stopped by the on-site chapel and asked for forgiveness.

Chooch made fun of me for like an hour because when we were walking out of the chapel, some old couple was on their way in and I jovially said, “It’s nice and warm in there!” THIS IS WHY I DON’T BOTHER MAKING SMALL TALK WITH PPL ANYMORE, BECAUSE SON OF THE YEAR IS SO QUICK TO POINT OUT HOW DORKY I SOUND.

I give up. Take my human card away. I’ll just talk to cats from now on. I have better rapport with them anyway, sigh.

You might be confused why a place like Silver Dollar City would appeal to me, since it’s down-home-y and Bible Belt-y, and this is also true for Dollywood. Look, if there weren’t rides here, there is no way you’d catch me loitering with a bunch of elder-dorks, watching shows and eating skillets. But since this place DOES have rides, I allow myself to enjoy the quaint charms it has to offer. I  mean, it is a theme park, after all, and the people who work there go above and beyond to make you feel like you’re in a world without swears and, I don’t know, porn. It’s very wholesome and sometimes I need some of that cheesy bullshit in my life.

It kind of reminded me of the time when I was a kid and I went to this festival in Ligonier, PA called Ligonier Days and it was like, a place for blacksmith enthusiasts  to really pop off. I remember kind of having fun except that I was with my friend Kristen and her step-dad was weird, but there was a place that was selling the motherlode of slap bracelets and people hadn’t yet begun reporting that the bracelets were slitting the wrists of their children, so I bought a ton of them in designs I didn’t have yet, because I’m sure you’ll be surprised to know that I was obsessed with slap bracelets and had a huge collection.

Me and collections, man.

Anyway, I sometimes say out loud that I want to go back to Ligonier Days sometime but, it’s been 30 years and this bitch ain’t been back since.

But yeah, if you’re into amusement parks themed after mining towns that also has a fantastic Christmas event, then get yer ass to Branson, Missouri, missy. Look at how fucking quaint it is!

During our weekly meeting at work, I was telling everyone about our trip to Silver Dollar City and Nate quickly googled it.

“Yeah, well did you get your picture with THIS?” he asked with a smidge more than a hint of smugness in his tone.

He swiveled his laptop around to show me a picture of the ABOVE SANTA BENCH and I was like, “What, you think I’m some sort of amateur?!”

DOT DOT DOT:

I love this coat so much but fuck if it doesn’t make me look like Big Bird’s chunky bluebird stepsister.

“I want to sit next to him so I can put my hand on his knee!” Chooch shouted, wedging himself in between me and plaster Santa.

We had only been inside the park for 30 minutes before our noses led us straight into the bowels of Nellie’s Homestead, where we got an apple turnover slathered with homemade apple butter.

I wish I hadn’t shared it. I wish I could go back in time and get my own and run to the nearest corner where I could hide and devour it in peace.

It made me think about when I was into Western music and really enjoyed the band Turnover and I went to see them one time and the singer was dressed in a very blatant “Papa H” style. It was weird.

And then we went to Brown’s Candy Factory to watch this pioneer broad making fudge and also to snag some samples. I always think that I’m not a person who eats fudge but then every time I actually eat fudge, I think, “WOW, FUDGE IS ACTUALLY GOOD.” But then some time passes and I go back to believing that I don’t care for fudge.

We really dropped the ball and FORGOT TO GET CINNAMON BREAD. Hopefully we will be going back in the summer though and can remedy this.

Somehow, I didn’t go into the taffy store but Henry did? It must have been one of the many times Chooch and I ditched his invalid ass. Also, we bought so much taffy at that one candy store in Historic Downtown Branson that my teeth actually just twinged while I wrote this portion of the blog post.

Chooch and I got wassail and I cried, “YOU’RE NOT GETTING ONE TOO?!” to Henry, who frowned in response. Chooch realized almost immediately that he didn’t like it so he gave it to Henry and then I couldn’t finish mine so I gave it to Henry, and now Henry had two wassails and mumbled, “This is why I didn’t get my own.”

There are also a bunch of shops that sell down-on-the-farm, Americana home interior bullshit. I’m not about that life, but I didn’t mind perusing. Mostly because it was warm inside those shops. But like, why is everything that boring Rae Dunn-style bullshit these days?!

It was pretty obvious that the temperature wasn’t going to reach the number it needed to be for several of the coasters to open, but I still kept refreshing the weather app all day like a girl sitting at the window waiting for her dad to come home when she knows deep down that he ran off to be with his mistress and bastard.

Chooch always has to get a park map for every amusement park we visit. We were standing near a chicken & waffles cart, trying to find which route we should take to get to Outlaw Run when they dropped the ropes, when some man came over and asked Chooch, “Where’s the nearest bathroom?” He looked like he was a security guard because he was wearing some dumb reflective vest, and he asked in such a jovial way that I thought he was jokingly giving Chooch a pop quiz, but it turns out that he was sincerely asking for the nearest bathroom for the people he was with.

ANYWAY, IT WAS FUNNY BUT I GUESS YOU HAD TO BE THERE.

(Henry was there and didn’t think it was funny.)

And here we are, standing in front of the famous SDC Christmas tree, pretending to enjoy wassail, before venturing over to one of the roped-off areas of the park and start the final countdown to 1:00pm when the rest of the park opened for business.

Stay tuned for more Silver Dollar City pictures and bullshit words.

Just wanted to share one of my favorite Twice performances in case anyone out there has had a bad day and is looking for an easy smile.

Everyone giggling at Sana’s monologue at the end melts my heart every damn time.

This is a tough season for a lot of people so let’s be nice, guys. Yes, even to your uncle who voted for Trump (assuming that’s his worst attribute. If he’s a puppy-kicker or whatever, then fuck that knob). But most importantly, be nicer to yourselves too. I’m trying to be nicer, too. I guess that’s why I’m so tired.

Every several years, I get bitten by the decorating bug. I’ve NEVER been a big Xmas bitch, but sometimes it’s nice to dull the pain of winter by stringing up strands of blinking lights, so that’s what we (lol, I mean Henry) have been doing. I’ll never be that broad who spends a pretty penny on yuletide decor, but we had to go to Joann for fabric for a non-Xmas related project, and I saw some bows that were on sale, so that is how Henry spent a large portion of Sunday hanging lights and bows on my Robert Smith self portrait wall which is my least favorite wall of the living room because it’s so unfinished and the idea I have for it is a large one so Henry is dragging his dumb feet.

Anyway, I told him he could take a break around 6 to make dinner.

I’ve had that Merry Christmas sign for probably 10 years now and it’s so janky but I keep pulling it out of the Christmas decoration bin year after year.

If you think I’d take down the BIGBANG bottles for Christmas, you’d be dead wrong.

We need to buy another box of white lights, but it’s OK so far.

Drew’s like, “We’ll see how long this lasts.”

At Joann, I got all these dumb pompom things on sticks, and other Christmas sundry on sticks, for like $1 on sale so I put my special bottles to use. Japan and Korea are representin’ on the mantle. <3

And these worthless things are on the coffee table. The bottles on the ends are actually vintage embalming fluid bottles so that’s a fun twist.

This was right after I yelled at her for eating the decorations UGH CATS.

J/K I fucking love cats.

While Henry was decorating yesterday, I decided to play my “top 2016 songs” on Spotify, which was all emo/post-hardcore/Phil Collins. I was crying within minutes and then got super introspective, depressed, and then ultra despondent to the point where Henry was yelling, “OK PUT KPOP BACK ON.”

Yeah, I miss some of those bands but I don’t miss that Erin at all. It’s actually amazing I made it out of 2016 not to be jinjja dramatic but that year was SHIT.

I’m glad I’m still here, 3 years later, to see another twinkling Trudy and to yell at my cats for gnawing on Christmas shit like it’s made by Fancy Feast.

Thanks, Kpop. <3

Wow. That took a turn.

We finally had some time to trim our sexy Christmas tree, aka Trudy the Dish, last night! I think this is her fifth Christmas with us, blessed be!

I can’t believe my childhood dreams have come true and kept on staying that way! You have no idea how happy this dumb Xmas tree makes me.

And Janna too, which is why she hasn’t missed The Trimming of Trudy yet!

Henry’s only job is to strip Trudy of her clothes (her everyday outfit is a sweater from the 80s that also doubles as a display for my enamel pin collection–Trudy has a lot of purpose in this house, probably more than even I have, if we’re being candid here) and then the super easy task of cocooning her in Xmas lights which I never fail to cry is NEVER ENOUGH by the time he’s done and then he responds by storming out of the room in a huff and then Janna chides me with an, “Ooooooooh.”

Henry provided the snacks because decorating a mannequin for Christmas takes a lot out of a person.

I went a different route this year by eschewing the boxy Christmas sweater we usually stuff onto Trudy’s torso, because it really hides her svelte figure. I had a vision of her swirled and striped in extra garland for 2019, so that’s what we did, and you guys….I love it. This is the look (never “lewk,” I hate that dumb word) that Trudy was poured and molded for at the mannequin factory.

Trudy, you are fucking WELCOME.

At one point, I looked at Janna and said, “Oh my god…..she’s Trudy….GARLAND.”

And then Janna was like, “Ha-ha” but I was laughing myself straight to the nearest improv club and then made Janna high-five me, and Chooch was just like, “I don’t understand why that’s funny. I googled Trudy Garland and nothing is happening.”

So then we had to explain about Judy Garland and a few more turns were made and that is how we ended up watching parts of The Wizard of the Oz synched with Dark Side of the Moon on Chooch’s phone.

But you know, once in the 90s was enough

I bought Trudy a new hat at Target. It lights up!

Poor Henry thought his decorating duties were over but then I was like, “HENRY THE ELF, HANG THE LIGHTS ON THE CURE WALL” so he spent a good hour fucking around with boxes of brand new lights that turned out to be lemons and look out Target, because Henry is going to ASK FOR HIS MONEY BACK.

I drank some wine and I don’t drink much anymore so I was a REAL HOOT, YOU COULD SAY.

This is what everything looked like to me last night. Also, I let Henry get some sitting in because now he’s back to hanging more lights today and also I sprung on him the idea of painting our front door because it’s white and plain, and I think he’s starting to look forward to the day when he gets to move into an old folks home and have shit done for HIMSELF for once, haha. And probably no one will come to him for help making gigantic art pieces of the Seoul subway map that lights up with corresponding colored LED lights.

Yeah, it’s on his current To Do list, haha.

Drew’s like why can’t we have a regular tree so I can climb inside it like normal asshole cats.

It’s hard decorating for a holiday when your house is always exploding with color and lights, but we do what we can.

Chooch made Janna play some cat collecting game, which should be a real life game for them.

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Janna was mad at first because Chooch wasn’t reading the directions in his own voice which was cracking me up because, wine, but Janna was like COME ON CHOOCH, GIVE ME THE DIRECTIONS and then I posted this video on social media and it got Kara all riled up because she is the QUEEN OF NOT FUCKING AROUND WITH GAME DIRECTIONS! If you want your game nights to run like a well-oiled machine, you gotta invite Kara. She’ll get the shit done and cut loose any dead weight.

And there was always dead weight at my game nights of yesteryear, believe me.

We kept Janna here until like 1:30am, making her watch videos of Korea and trying to convince her that joining us on our next trip there (hopefully 2021!!!) could be the best decision she ever makes. I think she’s sold! I love Korea SO MUCH and I can’t think of anything greater than sharing the experience with a friend!

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That door is getting fucking painted. Henry said “it certainly won’t be today” but it’s going to be this week, I promise you that.

…but five is “ise.”

My Cat Brian

I recently watched the second season of Mindhunter. Don’t even get me started on how much I disliked the first season! It took me forever to slag through because it was so boring and I FUCKING HATED “DEB” and kept waiting for her to go away because Henry, who watched the whole season without me, kept saying, ‘Oh don’t worry, she doesn’t last long” so then I thought MAYBE SHE WILL BE MURDERED and there was one scene in particular when she was in a bathtub and I was like YES, THIS IS IT! DROWN YOU DUMB BITCH! But then nothing happened and she ended up being in the whole season, so I’m not sure what show Henry was watching…

ANYWAY. The second season was better. But this here isn’t a TV show review, OK? I’m only mentioning this show because there was one scene with one of the character’s son—he’s like 7 and a budding serial killer, and his mom finds him standing on the periphery of a playground, glaring at some bitch on a swingset. The mom is all, “BRIAN, WE DON’T STARE” and later that night, I happened to look over at my cat Drew, who was sitting on the floor, GLARING at her sister Penelope in a very Brian-esque manner, so the next logical step was to start calling her Brian and everyone in my house hates this but I crack myself THE FUCK UP every time I scream, “BRIAN WE DON’T STARE!!!” at Drew.

Sometimes I call Penelope “Paige,” the girl on the swing, and this angers Chooch and Henry too because literally that girl was only in the scene for 3 seconds and we only know her name because her mom says, “Let’s go, Paige” but these are the things I latch on to.

I tried telling some of my co-workers about this because I couldn’t stop laughing to myself about it at work, but they were just like, “…………………….” similar to when I changed Drew’s name to Ursula’s Shoulder Pads.

Update on Henry’s Back

People keep asking me how Henry’s back is and I’m like, “Uh….*shrug*” But I can tell you that Manly Henry the Man-Man is wearing a Donald Duck bandaid on the delicate boo-boo that he recently received on his precious pinky finger.

It was pretty fucked up around here last Friday though when The Back Injury first happened because Chooch and I were like WHAT WILL WE DO FOR FOOD? I was getting ready to grab a basket and my hooded cloak before hitting the forest for some berry-picking, but then Chooch suggested Subway and I was like, “Yes, that sounds manageable” so we were going to go and do that but then Henry was like, “Well, I would like to eat dinner too….?” but he was afraid we’d fuck up his order so he made us order through the app so that he could be in control and prevent us from sabotaging his carefully crafted sandwich.

“What do I do when I get to Subway? Just say ‘give me’?” I asked Henry, wringing my hands. I don’t do things for myself very often.

But then something went wrong with the app-ordering, like a real life deus ex machina. “I’ll just go there. CHRIST,” Henry sighed,  rolling himself out of bed and slowly putting his pants on because whatever happened now required him to physically enter a Subway LOL oh the trials and tribs.

“I think I can handle lifting a bag of sandwiches,” he said in a tone t hat suggested he just had the wind knocked out of him.

I laughed so much.

But then he came back and my sandwich was fucked up so I guess: who’s laughing now, amirite.

Erin vs the United States

I was looking at a map of the US on my phone the other day, after being inspired by venturing out to Missouri for the first time, and I was surprised to see where it was located in relation to other states like Louisiana, Mississippi, whatever.

“Wow, maybe I should start looking at maps more often,” I murmured. “I didn’t realize we had come this far away from Pittsburgh.”

And Henry just glowered at me from beneath his angry caterpillar brows.

Also, today I realized that I was using the wrong abbreviation for Missouri since the weekend, which is fantastic since it was a part of one of my blog post titles. I kept using MO for some reason!? I think I need to go back to school, maybe audit a few 5th grade classes or something.

OK, maybe 3rd grade. You got me.

EDIT: Ok 2 weeks later and I just learned THAT I WAS RIGHT THE FIRST TIME, IT IS “MO.” My brain is a bean.

DEB STRIKES AGAIN

I had to pause what I was watching because Chooch brought his traveling talk show into the room, and he interrupted himself to shout, “organic big-bush patchouli sex? Wow, what the hell are YOU watching, mom.”

I’ll tell you what I’m watching: a not-great TV show, son, that plays out like a Lifetime movie but with swears and sex because…Netflix. Anyway,  this show was recommended to me by a co-worker and the first season was aight because Jessica Biel was in it, not that I’m like a huge J-Biel fangirl, I only know her from 7th Heaven lol. But the story line season 1 was more compelling to me than season 2, and I have stalled out on the 5th episode.

COINCIDENTALLY, in this season, there is some bitch who looked familiar and instantly got under my skin. Henry was like, “hey is that—-” and I cried in pain, “DEB!!”

Yes, the same bitch who played the worst character on Mindhunter is back to ruin my television-watching experience yet again.

What a stupid bitch. She’s really annoying in this show too.

Also, can we talk about how I had the hugest crush on Bill Pullman in the 90s and while all of my friends were going to the movies numerous times to see “Casper” because of Devon Sawa, I was going for HOT DAD BILL PULLMAN.

But…has he always been this bad of an actor and I just was  too blind to notice or care? Because holy shit, it’s like he watched the episode of Friends where Joey divulges his “smell in the fart” acting technique and fucking ran with it.

It ain’t good, Bill.

Meanwhile, the Korean dramas I’m currently watching are like French-chef-kissing-his-fingers good. But ya’ll don’t care about that.

(Or is it Italian chefs who kiss their fingers?!)

The Face of the Teen Center

Chooch told us off-handedly last week that he was interviewed at the teen center.

“For what?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some lady was writing about it for something I guess.”

“Well, what did she ask you?”

“I dunno. Why I liked the teen center,” Chooch mumbled, and I could tell that I wasn’t going to get much more out of him than that because that kid is so oblivious at times. But then he said that he was the only one they interviewed because, “I’m basically the face of the teen center.”

OMG his ego. Where does he get it from.

Then the other day, we saw that the Teen Center used his picture again on Instagram (oh don’t worry, we signed a media release awhile ago).

WHY IS HE LIKE THIS. .Also that’s an old picture of him, but don’t worry – his current hair looks just as dumb as his Spring 2019 hair.

In other teen center news, two volunteers recently left (they’re all college kids so they eventually leave…right after the kids get attached to them).

“Wow,” I fake-cared for Chooch’s sake. “Are they having a volunteer-shortage now? Do you think I should volunteer?”

“OMG no! You HATE kids!” Chooch cried, as if I was actually serious. My time is valuable! I’m not wasting it in a basement full of screaming kids.

“Yeah, especially teens,” I pointed out.

So, that was short-lived.

Well, on that note, here’s a photo of Paige & Brian. And now I’m going to go and watch some more of Korean dramas while Henry is busy cobbling together serial killer Christmas cards. Thanks, Mindhunter, for making Ed Kemper and Richard Speck le chic even though I’ve had them in my card catalog (lol) for years. You’re still not that great of show, though.

Many, many, many years ago, during the heyday of Farmville and its brethren on Facebook, I used to play some theme park game where, in order to be able to advance or collect coins or whatever, you would have to send invites to your other Facebook friends, which oftentimes would cause you to lose said Facebook friends. So I would opt for the other ways to advance: signing up for “free offers” and by that I mean I would sign up Henry.

One of the offers was from the Branson Tourism Board. I provided them with his phone number too and I will never forget how perplexed he was once day when he said, “Someone called me at work about travel offers for Branson, Missouri.”

And then they sent him a bunch of brochures and literature, too.

I remember cracking up over this and thinking, “Why the fuck does some town in MISSOURI have a tourism board!? Who would ever go to BRANSON, MISSOURI?!”

Fast forward a few years later and some broad whose blog I used to hate-read went to a theme park there called Silver Dollar City. Now this chick was a hugely annoying blogger who came up during that whole TWEE INVASION and she wears dresses meant for children so I immediately figured, “Oh, if the Skunkboy family is going to this place, it must be lame AS FUCK.”

But then…they got an RMC roller coaster and by now you probably now that I am an RMC ho bag. (True fact: the word for “pumpkin” in Korean sounds similar to ho bag.) So Silver Dollar City was firmly set in my sights, much to Henry’s chagrin because it’s nearly a 13-hour drive (we will not get on a plane in this household unless it’s absolutely necessary – we’ll road trip to our fucking graves, I guess). Anyway, if you don’t know, RMC is the manufacturer of some of my favorite roller coaster and my new life goal is to ride all of them (Japan here we come again, I guess?). I decided over the summer that this would make a lovely Thanksgiving weekend getaway, similar to our Dollywood trip last November.

Henry quickly reminded me that Pigeon Forge, TN is a much easier drive but I stayed firmly planted in La La Land and refused to give up hope.

I liveblogged our drive here, which took basically the entire day/night last Saturday. We had to stop a lot because Henry hurt his back Friday morning at work, as previously mentioned. Honestly, it’s a miracle that we went at all because I didn’t even get him  to officially confirm that we could go until Thanksgiving Eve, and we were supposed to leave Friday when he came home from work so that we weren’t rushing to get there. When I found out he hurt his back and wasn’t going to be able to go, I bluffed and said that Chooch and I discussed it and decided we were still going to go, just without him, and that sent Henry into a panic because I’m sure he had visions of us Thelma-and-Louise’ing off a cliff somewhere outside of Columbus, Ohio because let’s face it: there’s no way I was going to last for more than 3.5 hours behind the wheel.

All of this is to say, we didn’t even have a hotel reserved until Saturday afternoon, which Henry booked when we stopped from lunch in Indianapolis. And bitch, you know I complained about it too!

Here’s the dinky Christmas tree in the lobby.

Actually, it wasn’t the worst. The room was really nice except that the bathroom was SO SMALL—the kind of small where the sink is actually outside of the bathroom. I thought that the beds and pillows were way too hard but Brokeback Mountain over here was all, “I stan a (hard-ass) queen (bed)” and kept gushing about how wonderfully he slept. Wow, brag much.

We ate breakfast at the hotel and it was fine. Your typical continental hotel breakfast but the breakfast room was spacious and clean, and there was an old lady working there who I originally hated because she kept being in my way but then she came over to our table to clear our plates and she was super personable and had a nice Southern accent so then I felt bad for hating her which prompted Henry to launch his daily lecture about how I shouldn’t be so quick to hate people and he can really just go fuck himself, you know?

We headed out of the hotel around 9:00AM, figuring we could drive around and explore. FUNNY STORY: the night before, Henry left the hotel to find a store to buy Chooch gloves because of course he didn’t bring any, and he said that some old lady in the parking lot was glaring at him when he came back and nabbed  the parking spot she was gunning for. He and I went back out to the car right after that to look for our phone chargers, and Henry was like, “Look! There she is, she’s still glaring at me!” and nodded toward some old lady who was getting stuff out of the trunk of her car. The next morning, we were loading our bags in the trunk of the car before leaving when Henry noticed THAT HE PARKED IN A HANDICAP SPOT, NO FUCKING WONDER THAT BROAD WAS GLARING AT HIM!

“Well, I’m temporarily handicapped,” Henry pointed out, using this as yet another opportunity to whine about his back.

I somehow have no idea what the Ozarks really are I guess and assumed that there would be a mountain we could drive up and you know, look around, but it turns out the entire expanse of land around Branson is considered “The Ozarks” so there was no actual mountain to look at, like the Smokeys. I think that was my first mistake – I kept seeing things about how Branson and Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg are sister cities…but it’s more like step-sister cities. Maybe it’s because we were there on a gloomy, super windy December day, but Branson just felt really sad and run down in comparison to Pigeon Forge. Both are full of Ripleys attractions, tacky museums, $$$ hokey dinner theaters…but Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg are just more beautiful areas.

Luckily, we weren’t there to ride go-karts or play mini-golf, so we bypassed the big touristy area and drove out to some Table Lake thing which is apparently mad-made and that’s kind of weird.

OMG the wind was so frigid. Also, Chooch’s hair, lol.

Our next stop was “historic downtown Branson” which was super homey and even on this cold day, everyone was all warm and friendly. Fuckin’ Missourians, amirite.

Anyway, downtown Branson was rife with variety stores, ice cream parlours, wig shops, whatever Henry’s Warehouse Outlet is…of course, most of the places were closed because Sunday is the Lord’s Day, but Henry kept harping about how DICK’S 5 & 10 was open, and I was like, “Why do you care about this place so much” and then we walked in and he went straight to the candy bar section like he’s been there before, I WONDER.

This was the type of place I hate, because it’s loaded with chintzy shit that I desperately want for my desk at work but also don’t really feel like paying for and no this isn’t my big dark confession about how I’m a klepto, thanks. And for every aisle of Erin-friendly bullshit they have, there are three more that are full of Americana decor bullshit, MAGA hates, and cooking shit.

BARF.

I kept saying things like, “EW VOMIT, THIS ISN’T  MY STYLE” and “EW WHO WOULD PUT THAT IN THEIR YARD” forgetting where I was, and then I would notice people giving me shifty side-eyes.

In the end, I ended up buying a Dick’s 5 & 10 magnet because I guess this is a legit Branson landmark, a mini marquee for my desk, and Henry got candy bars, one of which the cashier pretended she was going to steal and then asked where we were visiting from because we are obviously tourists everywhere we go, and 2 hours after I said “Pittsburgh,” I wailed, “OH NO SHOULD I HAVE SPECIFIED WHICH PITTSBURGH? WHAT IF SHE THINKS WE’RE FROM PITTSBURG, KANSAS? I DON’T WANT TO BE MISTAKEN FOR A DOROTHY!”

Whatever that means.

I literally know nothing about Kansas aside from tornadoes.

Amazingly, I managed to convince Mr. Hot-Blooded to wear a jacket. Getting him to zip it was a war I didn’t feel like waging that day, though.

We went into an antique store after that and I could hear Henry weakly murmur, “Please don’t find anything,” from behind me. Like what Henry? A WHEELCHAIR? A GIANT PIECE OF AN ARCADE GAME? A CHURCH PEW?

What I did find though was this one section full of vintage magazine ads so I texted my brother Ryan and asked, “WOULD DAD LIKE THESE” and he was like, “YES THE CHEVY AND OIL&GAS ONES” and I also found an old 7Up ad too because bottled beverages is another thing that my dad really enjoys – he has several vintage pop machines in his garage, next to his ’55 Chevy and whatever other old cars he has; he changes them up.

We walked out after only spending $9 and Henry mopped beads of sweat off his cheap-ass forehead.

Also, Chooch used the bathroom there because of course he did and then got pissed because we didn’t care about the dumb salt and pepper shakers he wanted us to look at.

Then we spent way too much time carefully selecting taffy from a candy shop run by a nice old lady and I have since eaten so much of it that I might as well get pre-fitted for dentures.

We eventually left downtown Branson because it wasn’t really that exciting and the only thing that interested me (Dino’s Cake & Coffee, home of the Famous 24K Cake?!) was closed. Dino, you motherfucker.

Chooch kept pronouncing it like “dino”saur but I said it was probably more like deeno.

“I know that because there was this guy named Dino who wanted to marry my aunt Susie so bad,” I explained.

“Didn’t everyone want to  marry your aunt Susie?” Henry scoffed, because apparently my family stories are jokes?!

I wonder what it’s like to have someone who wants to marry you….

Then we went to some lake thing where Chooch couldn’t skip a rock and I learned about ZEBRA MUSSELS because there were warning signs everywhere but thank god Henry the Pocket Biologist was there to mussel-splain to us that they are AN INVASIVE SPECIES blah blah blah LAKE ERIE HAD A PROBLEM WITH THEM TOO snore snore snore.

In between all of this, I checked the weather on my phone once every 7 minutes because certain rides are not operational if the temperature dips below a certain degree and I was OBSESSED with this all weekend. Henry was like, “Look, we’re here and it doesn’t really matter, you can’t change it, so let it go.”

OK Elsa.

Is that who sings that? I have made it this far in life without ever seeing Frozen or listening long enough to any media outlet to even know what it’s about. BIG DAB.

Then we drove around looking for a place for me  to pee (I’m really picky about public restrooms and we started to near a Walmart but my body language was a clear, undeniable, “DO NOT EVEN” that a speaker of any language would have easily understood, so instead, Henry found a Hardees and bought some fries* while I peed in a handicap stall next to some lady who was shitting.

*(I’m weird about going in a fast food place just to use the bathroom so I will always make Henry buy something.)

Then it was time to go to SILVER DOLLAR CITY!

I am very pleased to say that our Thanksgiving was very nice. We actually quit making a big deal about it several years ago because who wants to be stressed and depressed?! Now we go into it with very laid back non-plans and now it usually ends up exceeding expectations!

Even Penelope had a nice day cuddling with Doll!

Our day started off with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I liveblogged for absolutely no reason aside from the fact that I was bored and needed to keep myself entertained while waiting fro NCT127’s performance. Then my mom texted me and, to my surprise, said that she changed her mind and would accept our invitation to come over if the offer was still on the table! I had asked her a few days prior to come over because I hate the thought of her being alone in her house on a holiday and even though we weren’t having a real “dinner,” I still thought it would be better that she came here and chilled with us and by that I mean we held her hostage on the couch and made her watch kpop videos and our Thanksgiving tradition of WATCHING RANDOM PEOPLE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE!

This was the ONLY bad part of the whole day: while Chooch was searching for our favorite birthday party video, the one that started our obsession, we realized that IT WAS GONE. The YouTube channel was TheMommyAndGracieShow, a mom and daughter doll-unboxing duo who are SO FUCKING ANNOYING and purposely do that “derp” voice thing which is NOT FUNNY OR CUTE.

Anyway, we accidentally found dumb Gracie’s…11th? birthday party video several years ago, which incited so many inside jokes between Chooch and me, to the point where I even printed and framed a still from that video. But then recently, Gracie decided she didn’t want to be a part of Mommy’s dumb unboxing videos anymore, and I guess MOMMY TOOK DOWN A BUNCH OF VIDEOS THAT GRACIE WAS IN, INCLUDING THE BIRTHDAY PARTY ONE?!

“She was probably getting bullied at school for her lame ass videos and fucking weird mom,” I said and Henry the White Knight shouted THAT’S NOT NICE from his serial killer Christmas card-making jail cell in the dining room.

Anyway, we found some other birthday party videos to watch and my mom was just like, “The fuck is this.” Welcome to our traditions!

For the dinner portion of the night, Chooch and I had these glorious #ThanksLiving vegan premade dinner sets made with love and care by our favorite local veg establishment: The Zenith.

Chooch is picky and didn’t like the butternut squash soup, but I certainly did.

Henry’s only plan for himself was to make a pizza, so that is what my mom also got to eat, because we are such great holiday hosts. She seemed OK with it!

Conveniently, she had just given me this pretty Asian-style platter that was from my Pappap’s house, so Chooch was very excited to use it for our dinner. Turns out it made the pizza look way more classy and less like it came from the freezer section. (I tried a piece that didn’t have meat on it the next day and that pizza actually was pretty good – it was Detroit-style whatever that means.)

(Yes, from Detroit, I realize that. Thanks pizza’splainers – I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE.)

We had some makgeolli left from our quick trip to Fairfax, VA a few weeks ago. My mom didn’t want any at first because she doesn’t trust anything about me but then she finally said FINE JUST A DROP and admitted that IT WAS PRETTY GOOD.

Makgeolli is the greatest. If you’ve never had it, I highly recommend running out to the nearest Asian market (preferably a Korean one) and seeing if you can snag a bottle.

If you live near an H-Mart and don’t have like 9 bottles of the banana variant in your fridge right now, we can’t be friends because if I lived near an H-Mart, I’d have 9 bottles in my fridge AND a mini-fridge in my bedroom just for makgeolli nightcaps.

Anyway, makgeolli is a Korean rice wine — not really comparable to sake though. This is more…milky? Cloudy? Also fun fact about me, I can spell “makgeolli” in Korean with zero effort but I almost always misspell it when I’m typing it out in English.

NO TURKEYS WERE HARMED IN ORDER FOR CHOOCH AND ME TO PARTICIPATE IN THANKSGIVING.

The best part of the dinner was the pumpkin pound cake that came with it. Oh good lord, I was stuffed after shoving this down my fat American gullet.

Chooch also really loved the cake, not sure if you can tell by his “died and gone to dessert heaven” pose up there.

My friend Wendy gave me a DUTCH HAVEN shoo fly pie last week, so Henry and my mom we’re also able to have Thanksgiving dessert.

We REALLY went all out this year lol. It’s amazing that Henry actually brought out the decent plates and not the ones that have been microwaved a million times, have accidental stove burner indentations in them, and gouges from years of having food cut on them.

Chooch and I took my mom home around 8 that night and passed a really bad accident. Someone was slumped over in a car, and it looked like another person in very critical condition was being put into an ambulance. It was chilling and extremely sad to see; you never want to see something like that on any regular day but when it’s a holiday, it’s just so much more heartbreaking.

“I think I might have just seen my first dead body,” Chooch said quietly. So, that was a really stark and somber reminder to appreciate the people who matter most to you and not get all hysteric over dumb things like I did the next day when I thought we weren’t going to be able to go on our Thanksgiving Weekend road trip because sometimes Spoiled Solipsistic Erin forgets how to be grateful, there, I said it. Ugh I’m the worst.

I made Henry take this picture of Chooch and me before I changed into my workout clothes and proceeded to spend the rest of the night exercising my fat face off.

The end.

Blasting “Jackie Blue” while in the Ozarks can be crossed off my bucket list now (I only just added that to the list last night lol).

Anyway, this is apparently a “scenic overlook” and then afterward I screamed when I realized I’m wearing BLUE while listening to Jackie BLUE in the OZARKS.

It doesn’t take much.

This one time, years ago, I mentioned at work that I liked that song and BARB was shocked that I knew it but I have always listened to old ass music especially when growing up.

Then, some time later, I had a birthday party at the roller rink and “Jackie Blue” started playing exactly at the moment Barb walked in and we pretty much died.

Found a better overlook, btw lol.