December 23, 2011

As you know, Saturday – Xmas Eve – was (appropriately) planned as Diane’s VeryEmbarassingDressUpLikeAWolfAndGoSeeTwilight Day.

The Date was set.

Wolf Donner (*autobiography of Wolf Donner follows…) was bought years ago: though nowhere as Authentic as Jenny Lawson’s, he’d do:

Diane’s Wolf Donner

Imagine My Surprise to awaken this morning to find a true Xmas Miracle: The Gods of Theatre, having (apparently) read my mind on Tuesday, today ELIMINATED THE TWILIGHT MOVIE FROM ALL LOCAL THEATRES!

Subliminal Fear at my planz? I think so….

Apparently Twilight was not considered in Good Holiday Taste (…Donner says it IS). Or it had run its course. Whatever … I missed the proverbial bandwagon. And am stuck with a disappointed wolf. And his fellow companions (descendents of the Donner Party**):

And yes – I already OWNED THEM. Unlike Jenny, my insanity is ongoing. When something big is dreamed up, ALL the ingredients are right here. They are an INVESTMENT (…I kept telling Bill: you just never know when you’ll need a BIG FAUX WOLF RUG…)

So… FIE on Twilight.

I’m going to see Sherlock instead. Sporting a BIG magnifying glass, an odd hat, Donner, and CHEETOS…. (“Holmes, QUIT CRUNCHING! You can’t sleuth and crunch at the same time!” Holmes: “But…you can’t eat JUST ONE! I am NOT crunching unduly!” Donner: “The heck with TWILIGHT, I’m gonna EAT SHERLOCK…”)

Soooo – happy holidays from myself, Mr. Lumberjack Werewolf, and Donner and his Party:

The Alternate Nativity Scene


** I mean, REALLY. Do you think the Donner Family actually ATE each other??? No, it was WOLVES. Despite poor family dynamics and dysfunction, I think we can safely say Donner and his friend Wolf Blitzen had a hand in the festivities…

*Wolf Donner: The Autobio

When Wolf Donner arrived with the usual fanfare (Bill {opening packages}: “What the HECK is this???”) I had visions of awakening in the coldest winter mornings, swinging my feet over the bed, and sinking them into a delightfully soft, warm [If not faux] wolf pelt.

When Donner arrived, I was disappointed he wasn’t full-length – but I placed him beside the bed anyway.

The next morning I joyfully arose, swing my legs over the bed, sunk into Donner’s luxurous plush pelt… and promptly tripped over his head and landed flat on my ass.

Lights ‘on’.

Bill (groggily): “What the HELL is going on?”

Me: (flailing around on the floor like a landed fish): “Oh, NOTHING. I just tripped over my wolf head.”

Silence. Lights OFF.


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