Christmas at Cracker Barrel!

Christmas at Cracker Barrel!
Hey friends! I know it's a little late to be doing a Christmas-themed post, but if you're anything like me, you probably wish Christmas was a year-round thing. I personally miss the Bailey's buzz I'd have around 11am every morning (you know...and Mariah Carey all the damn time) so this post warms the cockles of my heart just a titch. Alright, let me set this up for you. During the first weekend in December, my good friend Tony Pepperoni and I decided to load up the wood-paneled family truckster and cross the sacred Canada/USA border for some cheap shopping and 'Merican deals. Obviously we can get deals in Canada, but we don't have Target (bummer) and that's where you get the best stuff on the cheap. Sure, we have Wal-Mart (ghetto) and Zellers (for those who enjoy the relentless stench of melted chocolate bars and urine), but their stock is sub-par to say the least. Definitely not the kind of stuff you would give your family and loved ones for Christmas. We made sure to leave time for lunch at Cracker Barrel, because I wanted to pick up some things for people and because Cracker Barrel is delicious (durr).

Now, I have written about Cracker Barrel before, but this was in the Spring/Summer when you're bound to find their regular stock (this is when I like to call it C+C Jesus Factory - candy and Christ. Really, go touch anything in that store. Is it edible? It's some kind of candy. It's not edible? Then it's some kind of weird Christian shit). But Christmas at Cracker Barrel is a very special time when the Old Country Store barfs up more crazy, glittery, fake-snow-covered crap than you can imagine; it's like walking into a sad divorcee's house. Everything has a forced smile painted on its face and the Alan Jackson is jacked up loud enough to muffle the sounds of profound weeping coming from the laundry room. Are you ready to take a look at what I saw?

Seeing Thanksgiving items this close to Christmas is absolutely baffling to me as a Canadian, as we put away our Pilgrim-Kitties by the 3rd week of October. But for serious, are you looking at the company's name up top? Thanksgiving Traditions. In what horrific, backwards world is a cat dressed up as a 17th Century pilgrim considered a traditional icon of Thanksgiving? Sidenote: see that cord? The cat lights up. WHY?

It wouldn't be Cracker Barrel without calendars dedicated to Jesus! I was hoping that this calendar would be 12 months of hilarious church signs (like these) but sadly they were of the boring, inoffensive kind. Pardon my French, but who the fuck wouldn't get bored to death after reading "God answers knee-mail" for 30 goddamned days? God, give me a calendar I can work with!

Whoah! I take it back - gimme that church signs calendar, please. This has got to be one of the most depressing calendars I have ever seen: it's just pictures of crosses in America. Spoiler Alert! They're all from southern states that end in A. And while I'm sure there is some kind of redneck-with-an-itchy-lighter-finger/burning crosses joke in here somewhere, I'll let you find it. It's my treat to you.

Plaid Tidings? Plaid Tidings?!?!?! The Pun-Crafters at the Cracker Barrel are punning at a much higher level than we are. I wish the item in the box was as amazing as the brand-name, but sadly it was just a shitty angel.
Editor's Note: I totally just noticed the creepy children in the lower left-hand corner of the picture. NIGHTMARES!

There isn't anything to make fun of this card for; I would have loved to have received this in my mail box this Christmas. However, do you see how many are left in the rack? Get rid of the tree and reindeer from that cat's sweater, slap on a cross, and those cards would have been selling like hotcakes.

I really wanted to make a joke about this "spy camera" for kids, but it was brought to my attention that it looks eerily similar to the Nikon I currently use. That's right folks - hick kids in Buffalo have a play-camera that is just a little more sophisticated than mine. The sads :(

This gingerbread man doll (toy? decoration?) looks like a prop from a North Pole courtroom. "Show them on the doll where Blitzen touched you." Your Honor, please have the jury note the witness pointed to the candy cane.
(I actually debated whether or not to write "peppermint butt-hole". Don't laugh at that, that's sick!)

What in God's name is going on with that snowman's legs?!?! Santa Maria, that is oddly disturbing, in a White Christmas-meets-David Lynch way. Look, I'm no puritan, but snowmen have the following appendages:
- head
- body
- stick arms
- eyes
- nose
- hat
- sometimes genitals made from carrots and coal (depending on how many "Holiday Beers" you've had)
You know what they don't have? Exactly, legs. They are meant to lumber around menacingly, not skip through town like your annoying cousin who just discovered musical theatre. Do not want.

And with that comes the last picture, the one that I feel truly sums up my winter trip to Cracker Barrel. Only a Cracker Barrel would be adjacent to a street named after a terribly unfunny comic about an overweight cat and his manic-depressive owner. Goodnight everybody!