Mitchell was so excited he had to put on a party hat.
(Could my head look any bigger? Crap on a cracker!)
How should I begin this review???????
Should I tell you how many blog-to-books I’ve read in the past year? (Answer: Infinity)
Should I tell you that I am one of the rabid followers of all things relating to The Bloggess and on one fateful day while perusing my local thrift shop my life was changed forever?
I should tell you all of those things, but first . . . . let me take a selfie:
If you haven’t met him yet, that’s Mitchell. My version of Jenny Lawson’s James Garfield. I found him in a thrift store last Fall, along with his hefty price tag of $459. Knowing that I could not excuse dropping so many Benjamins on a rotted boar’s head and remain married, I chose Option B – I went and visited him a few times a month just to check in, catch up, make sure he was being treated okay, etc. Amazingly, come Christmastime the shop owners were more than happy to haggle on the price (a LOT) in order to
I brought Mitchell home and we became instant BFFs. We continued our chats and got to know each other on a deeper level. Friends and family found our relationship to be a bit strange, but it was only because they couldn’t appreciate what it was like for me to FINALLY have a fellow book lover in the house. Of course, Mitchell’s idea of a “comedy” isn’t quite the same as mine . . .
There was a downside to our new relationship, though. Since I work a full-time job, Mitchell found himself lonely just hanging around all day. It was high time he had a friend. My husband had his eye on an alligator head at a local antique store, but sadly it had already been sold. However, the powers of the interwebs are remarkable and I soon found not just a head, but an entire alligator for a bargain price (due to bad stitchery, stuffing leakage, and a missing (but completely unnecessary) hand). Frank Engator entered our life and I found myself getting high off the big score . . .
Along the way we’ve adopted more friends into our little menagerie. Adorable pals like Pauly Shore:
and the loveable drunk, David Hasselmouse:
This book confirmed my belief that there is nothing in the world quite like taxidermy. I might be a candidate for an appearance on “My Strange Addiction”, but it’s cheaper than heroin and releases tons of good endorphins. Be it bad, good, or bizarre, taxidermied critters are definitely a conversation starter when people step in to your house for the first time and realize your simple reading room is truly a “Where’s Waldo” of dead things.
It takes a special breed of weirdo to appreciate the art behind taxidermy, but I have faith that many of you are weirdos just like me and will rush to the book store come September in order to have this teensie little masterpiece featured as a coffee-table-book-of-choice. Until then, happy hunting. Personally, I currently have my sights on a deer’s butt in order to make my very own “Assquatch” : )
Copy provided by Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.