Tag: gifts

Tiggy’s Shopping Bizarre – Teach Yourself Taxidermy Kit

Stuff it and see!

Tired of paying $$$ to Bob’s Taxidermy for your road kill trophies? Simply stuff it yourself with this awesome DIY taxidermy kit! It contains all the tools and plastic sheeting you need to learn the ancient art of mammal mounting.

* It’s easy when you know how! With a few careful incisions remove soft tissue, mucus and entrails from your subject. Stretch the remains around a mould, pop in some eyes and presto!

Your friends will be so impressed they’ll be lining up at your door with piles of fresh kill just dying to be immortalized!

* Don’t let the beloved former family pet rot away in a hole – the best monument to your pet IS your pet! Fluffy or Rover can now sit loyally on the fireplace or bookshelf forever.

Help your kids through the grieving process by letting them help with their dead pet’s taxidermy treatment. It will make a great school science project.


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Tiggy’s Twelve Days of Christmas

Cocks and birds. Ahhh, Christmas!

Dear diary, this year my true love has promised me a new present every day until Christmas! I can’t wait to see what he’s got me. I’m hoping for electrical goods. And a vibrator.

Day One
My true love led me blindfolded into the garden. Was it a new car? A hot tub? No. It was a pear tree. A small partridge had been tied by its feet to a branch. It didn’t seem very happy and was squawking loudly.

I had asked for a Wii for Christmas. It’s the thought that counts I suppose.

Day Two
My true love gave me a large ribbon-tied box. Was it a Wii? I shook the box; it shuddered and squawked. Another partridge? I opened the box to find a pair of fluffy turtle doves blinking back at me. Oh. I guess they could keep the partridge company.

If they misbehave I could transform them into a pair of fluffy slippers.

Day Three
I received a huge box today! It rattled alarmingly. A massage chair? No, more frigging birds. Three angry-looking French hens glared at me and pecked my fingers. They flapped around the kitchen, scratched the carpet and bit my ankles. The poor things seem frustrated. I think they need a French cock.

Day Four
A blood-curdling shriek greeted me this morning. My true love presented me with four calling birds. Tweeters with Tourette’s, more like! The little bastards squawked what sounded like “cockkSUKKA!” all day.

My sexually frustrated hens have finally given up trying to mate with the doves.

A bit chunky for my liking.Day Five
I got into trouble with the Salvation Army carol singers today. They were crowded around my doorstep and three bars into Silent Night when their warbles were shattered by “cockkSUKKA!” I had no idea carol singers could be so violent.

On the upside, my true love finally gave me a decent present – five gold rings! They’re a bit chunky for my liking, and one of them has “4 REAL 4 EVA” inscribed on it. I’m not going to ask too many questions.

Day Six
More fucking birds. I now have six geese to add to my aviary. They look suspiciously similar to the geese from our local pond. On the upside, they are popping out eggs like ping-pong balls from a Thai hooker.

I wonder what French hen omelette tastes like? I’d give it a try but unfortunately the geese have taken over the kitchen and attack me when I try to open the fridge.

I'm scared to go to the bathroom now.Day Seven
I had to put my foot down today after my true love presented me with seven swans. All swans are property of the Queen! I now have stolen goods flapping around my house.

I’ve hidden them in the bathroom in case the cops come round. I think they’re onto me – this evening I saw a big black car parked across the street. It must be the Animal Squad or something.

Day Eight
Heeding my bird gift ban, my true love presented me with a money-making present today. A local dairy was going out of business; a dairy herd and eight milking maids were going cheap. I now have a garage awash with milk churns and cow emissions.

This enterprise may work out – the ditzy maids are so grateful for a job I’m paying them a pittance. I may have some plucking jobs for them as well.

Day Nine
I’m beginning to wonder who my true love is buying gifts for. This evening he turned up with nine scantily-clad dancers from the local strip club. He spent all evening “erecting poles” and has turned the basement into a sleazy night club. He argued that seeing how I now had my own home business, it was only fair he had one too.

The geese and swans have declared war on each other and are battling for control of the dining room. I’m thinking of moving out.

Day Ten
To mark the opening of the basement night club, my true love invited ten yuppies from the local Yacht Club for a party. They parked their shiny Porsches all over the street and barged into my basement demanding liquor, music and pole dancing. The posh poseurs spent all evening leaping around with the dancing girls and spilling expensive whiskey on the carpet.

The racket woke up the calling birds who are now squealing “cockkSUKKA!” every ten seconds.
Bloody upper classes.

Band's arrived - Merry Christmas Tiggy!Day Eleven
I have a mutiny on my hands! The Yacht Club yuppies upset the girls with their dirty dancing demands and called one of the dairy maids a “sour cream udder whore”. The maids and dancers got together to demand better wages and conditions. This morning they formed the Amalgamated Women’s Union of Dairy Operatives and Erotic Performers, otherwise known as Cream & Panties. Fucking unions.

I received a nice gift this evening. A group of eleven kilted hunks from the Purple Pipe Blowers Marching Band called to play a medley of Christmas tunes on their bagpipes. Unfortunately the band had spent most of the afternoon drinking and their spirited efforts were rather off-key. I’m sure one of them vomited into his pipe during Jingle Bells. At least the noise drowned out the squawks and clucks of the household menagerie.

That black cop car was parked outside my house again. It has spinning rims. On a cop car! No wonder my taxes are so high.

Day Twelve
My fun night of song, scotch and sporran fondling was ruined! One of the Yacht Club snobs started a fight with a piper after accusing him of throwing up on his Porsche. The piper retaliated by lifting his kilt. Twenty-one drunken men then spent the evening punching each other to a pulp.

The Cream & Panties union was no help. They voted to hold a women’s peace protest in the hallway. If I hear them sing We Are Women, We Are Strong one more bloody time…

No! Not the new carpet!!Worse was to come! At midnight a tour bus full of drummers from the Battle of the Hair Bands Show arrived at my door. They had heard the night club was throwing the best Christmas party in town, brimming with drink, drugs and birds. Oh yes, I assured them, there was plenty of birds.
Overpowering the air with the smell of hairspray and weed, they tumbled through my front door with their drum kits, shouting “We’re ready to ROCK! Let’s PARTY!”

So this Christmas Eve I have a house full of sex-starved chickens, stolen swans, obnoxious yuppies, drunk pipers with no underpants on, drugged-up rock drummers and a militant women’s peace camp. This is not going to be a silent night.

Day Thirteen
The gunfire started at two in the morning. The black car squealed down my street and the occupants burst out, firing their guns into the air and screaming “Gimme ma bling yo mofucka! You stole ma muthafucking bling, bitch!” Looks like my five gold rings already had an owner. The gunfire woke up the calling birds, who screeched “cockkSUKKA!” at the gangstas. The dink-dink-dink of bullets hitting Porsches echoed around the street.

The Cream & Panties union broke their peace circle and raced towards the hoodlums, screaming about pimps and unpaid money and how they were taking their muthafuckin’ asses to arbitration.

Having spent the night snorting coke with the drummers, the dairy cows got spooked by the gunfire and rampaged through the garage doors, sending drunken pipers flying and crushing any gangsta or Porsche that got in their way.But officer, I can explain... I think...

The cops needed thirty police cars and a helicopter to arrest all fifty-two suspects. I’ve been charged with affray, public obscenity, assault with a lap dancing pole, various weapons charges, theft of Royal property, parking violations, infringement of unionized Labour Code C574 and imprisonment of a game bird in a pear tree.

Next Christmas, I’ll get myself a goddam Wii. And a new true love.

Wishing you all a very Hazy Christmas and a Drunken New Year!


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Bad Santa – Tiggy’s Terrible Christmas Gifts

Boys Town Gang? Ohh noes!If there’s something I hate more than the taste of chalk, it’s buying Christmas presents. I’m great at buying gifts for myself – I know exactly what I want and I’m never disappointed with the colour or quality.

But I’m clueless when it comes to friends and family. No matter how hard I try, I always end up buying the wrong thing and have to witness that familiar grimace as they open their unwanted gift.

This year I’ve decided to go one better and deliberately buy the worst gifts I can find. That way, no-one will be any more disappointed than usual, and I can have some fun.

Mmm, cabbagey.Power Juicer
It looks great on the TV, doesn’t it? You fill it with fruit and vegetables and it squirts out a healthy refreshing drink! The drink may be fluorescent green and smell like cabbage, but hey, think of the health benefits!

A juicer is a truly terrible gift. It says “You look like shit! You stuff your face with fast food all day – your body must be crying out for nutrition! You obviously have no idea how to cook, so here’s a machine you just shove fruit into. Think you can manage that?
You’ll have to gulp a glass of freshly-squeezed broccoli every time I visit, just so I think you love your gift.” Ha! Add a Spa day voucher if you feel really cruel.

That one on the right - doesn't he remind you of serial killer John Wayne Gacey?Glass Clown
If there’s one thing worse than a real clown, it’s a delicately crafted, multicolour Italian glass clown. Yes, from the country that brought you Ferrari and Michelangelo, Italy has now added gaudy deformed ornaments to their prestigious list. Why? Did a glassblower wake up one morning and think “Hey! I mak-a ma fortune by blowing a clown! Bellissimo!” A sad day for Europe.

This gift says “I’ve thought of the most unattractive, scary figure I could think of. I’ve had it made from psychedelic glass that clashes with everything you own. I’ve had it flown all the way from Italy. Because I’ve put so much effort into this gift, you will have to display this monstrosity in the most prominent place in your house. I am then going to buy you one every Christmas for the next 20 years.”

Embarrassing CD
I’ve been the recipient of many cringeworthy discs in my time – some of my relatives must really hate me. Any serious music fan is going to be seriously offended by offerings such as this:

Man Love Disco - Boys Town Gang pump it up. Eww.

Just be sure you don’t purchase something that is so bad, it’s good. It just has to be really bad.

Your musical gift of love shouts out “This CD shows how little attention I pay to your musical tastes. This CD is going to stand out in your serious music collection like a glowing pus-filled boil. Put it on now! Put on your dancing shoes and boogie on down, party boy! Rahahahh.”

Just what you always wanted.Pet Gifts
It’s fun to irritate a new mother by buying baby-related gifts on her birthday. So why not buy pet gifts for your animal loving relatives? A box of snacky bones or a scratching post is totally useless to them, but their furry friends will love you forever! It’s like stretching one gift to two recipients. Brilliant.

This gift says “I know your pet is the only thing in your miserable life that loves you, so I’ve decided to reward him, the poor creature. You’ll now have to spend Christmas feeding your gift to the dog.”

Balloon fail.Balloon Ride
Nothing says “I couldn’t be bothered to think about your gift” more than a free ride in something. And a balloon ride is the worst trip of all. On the face of it, a graceful and romantic balloon ride sounds like fun, but as far as I’m concerned it’s dangerous, scary, pointless and, did I mention dangerous? At least with skydiving you get a parachute.

This gift is great for unpleasant elderly relatives. It shouts “A trip of a lifetime – I hope so, because you won’t be around for another one! Once you realize you’re standing in a picnic hamper 10,000 feet above ground held up by a bag of air, those long-overdue heart palpitations might finally kick in! By the way, can you leave me that antique vase in your will?”

Follow these tips and your Christmas shopping trips will be a breeze! For more inspiration, head over to Shopping Bizarre for more ridiculous gift ideas!


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Tiggy’s Shopping Bizarre – Kiddies’ X-Ray Terror Fun

Anti-terrorist X-Ray machine - the perfect Christmas gift for your little ones!Are your kids blissfully ignorant about Jihad? Not exercising vigilance in the war on terror? Teach your kids to look out for lunatics with this fabulous toy Airport X-Ray machine!

This realistic detection toy will give kids hours of fun as they attempt to identify hidden bombs, liquid explosives and bomb-making manuals from the comfort of the play room. Your children can recreate all the fun of the check-in gate!

* The X-Ray machine’s light flashes when a box cutter or shoe bomb is detected! Kids will love playing ‘Cops and Bombers’ role-playing games with their little classmate Mohammed.

* Teach kids about the dangers of drugs! Challenge your little Airport X-ray Agents to detect hidden packets of cocaine. See if they can identify the real drug from the decoys using sight, touch and taste. It may inspire them to become experts in illegal narcotics when they grow up!


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