Okay, so you didn’t get any days of posting. Just think of them as the Mystery Days.
It’s not that there wasn’t stuff to add, oh no. Some truly inappropriate gifts were out there– my favorite examples are these books. Nothing shows care for a loved one than a gift that says, “If you’re going to insist on going to work in drag, at least shave your legs first” except a gift that says, “Honey, I don’t think you look all that good naked. Here, do something about that. Please.”*
There were a LOT of candidates. Heck, just choosing from any number of bad Christmas albums could keep me busy for weeks, though I admit to a warped fondness for A Partridge Family Christmas. And the videos! Eeek!
But we’ve reached the end of the list. And what better way to say “But” and “The End” than by highlighting the end of Butt-Printing Artist, Stan Murmur.

I suppose it’s an epiphany of sorts. And Happy Epiphany to you and yours. Join us in 353 days when we start with a whole new list of disasters.
* I suppose I should have warned you about clicking on those links. Not that they aren’t work safe– well, maybe they aren’t. But they’ll mess up your Amazon recommendations for days.