This Elf on a Shelf nonsense is super annoying. Everyone knows about this ridiculous Elf situation at this point so I’m not going to detail but basically I have to move this guy every single night from one spot to another so my kids don’t figure out that he’s not real. Guess what kids? He’s not real. Nobody is reporting on you to Santa, and no matter how bad you are, and you guys are pretty bad (no you’re not, I love you), I’m still going to buy you those foolish effing Stompeez and about another $300 (each) worth of sh!t that I’m going to have to clear off the floor every night. Why? Because I grew up with not so much and so I like to overcompensate by spoiling you little ungrateful sh!ts rotten, that’s why. I love my kids like crazy. Anyway, since I’m roped into dealing with this Elf crap, I figured I’d make it a little fun for myself. Why not enjoy this? Elfie’s arrival this year coincided with my sister cleaning out the attic of my childhood home. What does this have to do with Elfie? One word: Barbies. Lots of them. Along with furniture and clothes. Some of this stuff is over 30 years old. For your viewing pleasure:

Baby Mama Drama: 3 kids and pregnant, Barbie is in no mood when Elfie tells her that he spent the night in the North Pole. He gets the couch.
I’ll add more as this Elf business marches on to December 24th. At which point we’ll all be sick of him.