Christmas Jeer

As Jeanne helpfully reminded me a couple days back, it’s damn near time I dress my dogs up in a stupid/humiliating costume, do a little hostage photo shoot, and print up the latest batch of Christmas cards sure to enkindle in my pugs’ hearts a desire to discover the secret of how one becomes a pitiless pit bull. (Thanksgiving example after the jump.) Which leads me to a whole other dilemma for the blasphemy-inclined among us:

What about stamps?

The Post Office offered me two options yesterday: The Virgin Mary or…Garfield. Two of the great fictional characters of our time, yes, and as a fan of the beautiful degradation of the religious aspects of the holiday I can’t pretend the fat cat option wasn’t tempting. Ultimately, however, I decided, no, these do not properly represent me.

So I did what any confused, aimless young man or woman does when faced with a conundrum of modern bourgeoisie living — off to the Internet! — and in no time at all I had my answer (or at least a answer) courtesy heavy metal artist Scott Jackson:

Behold the heavy metal stamp, available here. Maybe a lil too Motorhead-ish for some Decibillies’ sensibilities, but it will have to do until someone with a decent working knowledge of Photoshop is able to put some corpsepaint on the mailman that kicked the post off for me…