Swag! Booty!! Avast, ye scurvy scalywags, go get yer own!!

Yarrrr!! Twas a proper chest o' dubloons I staggered home under the burden of!! Well, dubloons well-spent at any rate, on the likes of some fine booty indeed. A list o' sweet swag follows:

• A World of Warcraft Raid calendar
• A 'Best of' Stray Cats CD
• A Tenth Edition booster of magic, the gold from which was Mirri, green 2/3 forestwalking legendary vigilant first striker, and one of the uncommons of which was a Femeref Archer. Oh yeah bitches.
• A pair of Holy Hand Grenades of Antioch, cleverly strung on a creeper to form a bolo of Biblical proportions. One... Two... Five! (Three milord!) Three!!
• Several stylin' Tees: Two Transformers, one old-school solid red and one new tarnished-style Autobots logo, a larger Green Lantern, a kickin' Spidey holo, and the piece de resistance, a custom jobber with the Ultimate WoW slayer-player from the South Park episode, with the oh-so gnarly legend, "How can you kill... that which has no life?"
• A bottle of Maker's Mark. Oh yeah bitches... Oh yeah.
• Several excellent additions to my sci-fi library, including a Harry Turtledove, a David Brin, and some others
• Superwife's mom gave me, out of the blue (and thank you ma'am!) a tin of Planter's Honey-Roasted Peanuts, and some silk boxers, both in the same gift-bag. Insert your own joke here. (We did, and it was funny as hell, too.)
• More epic Foghorn swag: another painting from Jojo, and another collector's glass from her sister Susie Q, and a Kleenex cover featuring that storied fowl of Dixie
• Lots and lots o candy, some sugar-free, some not. This included a Tobler's Orange, which, you know, just frickin rocks out loud.
• A toothbrush. See above.
• Swedish Fucking Nuts. If you know what they are, you've nodded sagely and thought to yourself, 'Damn right Swedish Fucking Nuts. They're that fucking good!' The rest of you, well, you know how sometimes you just get sad for no discernable reason? Well, it's because you don't know what Swedish Nuts are, and that makes you sad from time to time. Someday you'll know, and then that won't happen anymore. You'll know exactly why you're sad, because you ate them all, and now you have none left.
• Oh, oh yeah, and an unrated, extended version, WIDESCREEN* edition of the funniest movie of 2007 easily, and quite likely what will end up being the funniest movie of the 21st century, (the first decade of such almost for sure) SUPERBAD.

* For the love of Satan, people, if you're going to spend your hard-earned cash on a movie for me, always always ALWAYS get the widescreen version. I hate missing 40% of a movie because some moron decided to cut the edges off to fit on an NTSC screen. That's just a footer for public interest. I suggest you do that for anyone you buy a movie for, so that eventually, someone somewhere will get the hint and just stop releasing movies in any other format but widescreen, to save me the trouble of requesting it.

In addition to mere swag to bear home and bury, I alos got to spend oodles of quality time with Bunnyman, Superwife, and the Super-Kids, all of whom I can safely say enjoyed the rather lame present I bought them. Seeing the Super-Kids light up when they tore through the wrapping was probably the best part of the morning.