Every year at about this time, it happens. An inundation of cheesy catalogs urging me to start buying chintzy gifts for my relatives for Christmas. Oh, I mean the 'winter holiday.'
After all, we may not be able to say Christmas in public, lest we offend someone, but we're sure as heck expected to spend, spend, spend for it!
Back to the subject at hand. Usually, I grab the catalogue out of the mailbox, and thumb through it on the way to the garbage can, even though I have no intention of buying anything from it.
Before I made it to the can today, this caught my eye:
Isn't that strange? Talk about brining a gun to a knife fight!