Ho Ho HooooooooWHOAA! Hello there, cheeriest Filthy Dreams Christmas cookies! What’s that? What am I doing? Well, I’m just making a list and checking it twice. No, not my shopping list! Planning is for fools! And who wants to plot too far in advance about the gifts you’re giving to OTHER people this holiday season?! If we’ve learned anything from President Trump, it’s that giving is for suckers and charity is only as good as the scam it’s covering up. I’m working on my list for Santa, and yes, I have been a very good girl this year (Have YOU been good, dearest readers?).
Everyone knows the holidays are a time–no, not for gathering with family and friends–but for wanton, vulgar, excessive, tacky, tasteless, gaudy and greedy consumerism. The ho-ho-holidays inspire nearly the same amount of wild-eyed maniacal shopping drive and determination as June–Pride Month, of course. I don’t know about you, but visions of purchasable items have been dancing in my head ever since we hit December.
And I know, I know all you anti-capitalist nags will be wagging your fingers, balking at our love for rabid shopping sprees and financially unsound frenzies. But, once you’re baptized in the dancing waters of your local mall fountain, you’ll forget your hesitations too and pray at the feet of your credit card company. Debt?! That’s for dealing with later!
I mean, who are we to resist the urge to have a nervous breakdown and screech recklessly in our new Cybertruck to the nearest mall? Careful you pick the right one! You might accidentally head to a dead mall, filled with military recruitment centers, bizarre churches, and haunted Auntie Annes. But, don’t you worry–there’s always online shopping to fill the void. Sure, Amazon is evil, but what isn’t?
And you better buy everything now just in case the Democrats win next year in 2020. The blue wave waging its ongoing War on Christmas might just crash over the red-and-green! You heard it here first–the end of Christmas! (Am I ready to be booked on Fox and Friends?)
But, the big question: What to buy? There’s so many options to choose from, which can leave you foaming at the mouth in indecision. Luckily, as always, we, here at Filthy Dreams, have you covered with our 2019 psychotic break shopping spree holiday gift guide. Think of our guide as merely inspiration–not just for gifts you want to inflict on your unsuspecting loved ones, but also demented ones that you’ll demand from your grandma. Yes, Nana, I DO want a box emblazoned with Ted Bundy. He was charming! And no, I don’t think it’s inappropriate!
Who doesn’t need a little chemically induced pick-me-up during the holidays? How else are we supposed to maintain our endless, boundless energy through the New Year, while also cementing a crushing, demoralizing, exhaustion-driven comedown in early January? If it’s good enough for our #1 Boy Kendall Roy, it’s good enough for us…and for Santa. Yes, why didn’t we assume Santa was a cokehead? He has to deliver all those presents on one night! I mean, who wouldn’t snort a few lines before getting in the sleigh? And that white beard would hide a multitude of sins. With all this in mind, somehow this lovely family-friendly Christmas sweater caused a commotion when it started to be sold on Walmart, forcing the store to remove the snuggly sweater and apologize to anyone traumatized by Santa’s white powdered-fueled Christmas zeal. I mean, what’s everyone’s problem? What does Walmart have against drug users?
If you can scrounge through the deep recesses of the Internet, I bet you could find some discounted discontinued sweaters. Perfect for a family holiday gathering, one in which you’ll continually excuse yourself to go to the bathroom! Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Lana Del Rey Coke Spoon…I mean, Heart Locket
And what would a better accessory be to your snorting, gacked out Santa sweater than a hidden coke spoon necklace from our blessed mother herself, Lana Del Rey? I mean, isn’t Santa just cooking up a dream, turning diamonds into snow? White lines, pretty baby, tattoos! Sold during her Honeymoon era, naturally this locket drew some pearl-clutching criticism, but what’s the issue? Our Queen of the Gas Station just wanted to give her fans a little boost! Also I covet this necklace unlike anything else and if a Filthy Dreams reader found one for me, I’d tattoo your name on my face…ok, maybe not, but I’d love you forever!
Speaking of sniffing…*sniff sniff* *sniff sniff* Do you smell fried chicken? No, I didn’t just go purchase some blessed chicken promoted by 2019’s Jim Jones cos player and holy baked potato/bloated Tin Man Kanye West. That 11 roasted herbs and spices scent wafting into your nostrils is FIRE! A fire log to be exact. Sold exclusively by Walmart–because why wouldn’t it be, the KFC Fire Log is perfect for a cozy holiday snuggle with your nearest and dearest that can make your homey living room smell just like a greasy fast food joint or like you’re inhabiting a bucket of chicken. Who doesn’t want their house to reek like “extra crispy fire” as they describe on the website? Just make sure you don’t jump into the flames for a wing! The promotional website does come with a few safety disclaimers. My personal favorite: “Don’t put face directly near the fire to smell fried chicken. Come to a restaurant for that.” I mean, but why not try it? Sure, nobody wants a holiday tragedy, but Uncle Rick burning his eyebrows off huffing chicken fire would surely be a family favorite story for years to come!
Staying on the topic of all things holy, haven’t you always wondered what it was like to be Jesus Christ? Not just the crowd-pleasing water-into-wine party tricks, but feeling your life drain out of you while pinned to the cross? Luckily, a new video game imaginatively titled I Am Jesus Christ provides this opportunity! Coming soon on Steam, the video game’s advance trailer shows the player in the role of Jesus: healing some excitable old lady, walking on water and yes, having your heartbeat slow while being brutally executed. Gruesome enjoyment for your screen-addicted nieces and nephews! I wonder if there’s an Easter Egg in which you can sing “Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life”? My favorite part of the trailer, though, is that after performing miracles, Jesus appears to take a polaroid and place it into the New Testament. Even looking beyond the historical and temporal confusion of Jesus reading a book about himself, I like that Jesus was apparently an avid scrapbooker! Kanye said, “Jesus walks,” but really, Jesus scrapbooks! Ah…memories. I’ll see you at Joann Fabrics, JC!
As you’ll recall, faithful Filthy Dreams readers, as we near the end of 2019, this year was the year that camp surged into the mainstream through the Metropolitan Museum’s certainly anti-camp Camp: Notes on Fashion exhibition. While the exhibition itself was a self-serious slog, the truly camp vision came at the end: the gift shop! At that time, the tacky and trashy wares were overpriced and outrageous, but now, since nobody wanted to buy these atrocities against our beloved aesthetic, they’re on sale! And I’m nothing if not a sucker for a good sale. I’ve been waiting patiently for this abominable Susan Sontag “Camp Counselor” cartoon T-shirt to get the slash–the feared markdown–so I can purchase it and wear it around proudly as people shout, “That’s not camp!” at me. It will be truly the most camp gesture of all. It’s now only $10. Cheap enough to give out to all your friends who have been debating what is and is not camp all year. And of course, the T-shirt is always free for shoplifters!
Sticking with the theme of mortifying museum merch that should probably be relegated to the bargain bin after the ongoing upheaval of the exhibition, why not bestow upon one of your social climbing art world colleagues the most embarrassing institutional item imaginable? The Whitney Biennial Stadium Jacket! Who the hell is this for? Let’s see if we can find an answer in the product description: “Inspired by traditional collegiate apparel, this classic stadium jacket celebrates the Whitney’s longest running exhibition and our vast roster of alumni – perfect for both the current class and those aspiring to be members of the next generation of Whitney artists.” Blech! Imagine the desperation flop-sweat as some aspiring artists forks over $115 to walk around with Whitney Biennial branded on your back. I’ve got an idea for the Whitney Store: I want a jacket with all the names of their board members that have donated to the Trump campaign!
Hmmm…don’t you miss grad school? Don’t you miss your classmates in your queer studies, gender studies and performance studies classes? Don’t you miss heated, contested debates about topics like lesbian separatist communes or Jack Halberstam’s correct pronouns? Well, look no further than Mattel’s new gender neutral Creatable World Dolls, which, with their asymmetrical haircuts and biker jackets, look as if they could also be the new cast members on The L Word: Generation Q. Sure, they were originally intended to be produced for children who could play with toys that are a little more gender fluid than stale old binary Barbie and Ken, which is certainly refreshing. But, I take one look at these dolls and am thrown into vivid flashbacks to gender politics classes at NYU. With these dolls, you don’t even need to dig yourself further into student loan debt to laugh at the self-seriousness of your fellow academics. They should come with little copies of Cruising Utopia.
Twin Peaks: The Return Standees
You know what else I miss? Twin Peaks! If I could exist permanently in the Red Room with Dale and Laura, I would. Let’s rock! While I can’t quite do that, I can however populate my apartment with these uncanny standees of characters from The Return. I wouldn’t even know which one to pick! So I’d take all of them. I want to dance with Audrey, do scream therapy with Laura, and have a Nick Cave lookalike competition with Bad Coop aka Mr. C. Just think of the demented possibilities as you become more and more divorced from reality and invested in your imaginary Twin Peaks world you’ve created. Why not sit all your new cardboard friends around the table for some cherry pie and damn good cup of coffee? And even think beyond the borders and limitations of your tiny studio apartment, imagine placing the Woodsman near a window to really freak out the neighbors or better yet, make him your passenger when trying to scam the carpool lane! Gotta light? While, sure, these gifts are mostly for us, I can’t think of anything more romantic than receiving a Giant standee. Who wouldn’t want to remind their sweetheart this holiday season about existential dread and the continual inevitability of Dale Cooper’s failure to save Laura? It is happening again…it is happening again…
Don’t we all have that one friend into fell headfirst into either paganism, mysticism, brujería or any other kind of witchy business? You know, the one who is at any point ready to go twirling off into the night with Stevie or slaughtering chickens in a closet with Azealia? And there’s only so many sage sticks and tarot decks you can gift them before it gets old. Well, look no further than Bushwick’s Catland Books for all of your Occultist needs. To be honest, one of my most cherished hobbies is perusing the bios of Catland’s readers who seem to have become everything I’ve ever wanted to be. Take, for example, B Hollywood: “B is a queer swamp witch from Florida with roots in southern folk magic & an affinity for practical witchcraft.” Serious goals. While Catland offers a lot of startling gifts to choose from, my chosen gifts would be these tiny pheasant feet, sourced by Swamp Witch Curios. Imagine your manic glee as you place some gift-wrapped toesies under the Christmas tree. Hey, the Christmas tree is a pagan tradition after all!
Speaking of chaos magick, one of our preeminent filth elders here at Filthy Dreams is undoubtedly Genesis Breyer P-Orridge. But, doesn’t it feel like you need more Genesis Breyer P-Orridge-related artifacts to prove your devotion and build an altarpiece to the pandrogyne? Obsessively reading Thee Psychick Bible just doesn’t feel like enough anymore. Thankfully, Thee Psychic Shop on Etsy features lovely hand-crafted boxes made by Susana, who happens to be Breyer P-Orridge’s partner. While the shop offers a wide range of touching box themes, including some odes to murderers and cult leaders like Charles Manson and Ted Bundy (perfect for the psychopaths in your life!), the real stand-outs are the boxes emblazoned with Gen. Sweet. And I can attest to the quality of the boxes since I purchased my own Susan Atkins aka Sexy Sadie box from Susana to add a little unhinged Manson girl spice to my apartment decor.
Obviously. Azealia knows nobody should have to go into the New Year with a dirty bunghole.
What better way to ensure that all the gifts you bought for others that you really just want to keep for yourself will get immediately rejected? Wrap them in this arresting, eye-searing Christmas Trump wrapping paper! He’s making a list and calling Ukraine to offer some quid pro quo! With his rictus grin and MAGA Santa hat (Santa would totally holler, “Lock Her Up”!), this Trump wrapping paper has to be the work of Krampus, the anti-Santa. Not only is it scary, it’s absolutely in poor taste, which is yet another example of Trump besting us at our camp game. Why are us pinko commies letting the Republicans take our beloved camp? None of the Democratic candidates would ever plaster their cheese faces all over wrapping paper and this is why we’re in trouble! More tacky merch please! And look, the Trump Campaign Store offers a lot of laughs, from it’s Bull-Schiff T-shirt to its $15 bundle of Trump straws (that’ll show the libtards!). Now, this wrapping paper doesn’t come cheap, and why would it given scams are exactly what got this con artist in the White House? How much do you think the wrapping paper costs? $10 max? Nope…$30. Winning the war on Christmas doesn’t come for free!