Given that it is our namesake and source of inspiration, we at Shitparade have rather an affection for shit, and by "we" I mean I, Andrea, have said affection. Also, as many of my friends know, I'm a compulsive list-maker. So, I've decided to start a regularly running "Shit List" – lists of shit that win my affection. But back in reality, "Shit List" usually refers to a list of people or things that the list maker dislikes, or against which the list-maker has a personal vendetta – hence, " You're all on my shit list!" or "I'm on your shit list too and I'm the team captain!" How to reconcile the double meaning?

Here's how: The First Shit List, in celebration of Christ's birth, will be a list of shit we want in our Christmas sock, interspersed with shit we seriously do not fucking want. And without further ado, allow me to present:

The Twelve Days Of

On the first day of Shit List my true love gave to me...

Designer Depravity
If you forgot to get me a birthday present, you can pick up pretty much anything from Citizen Citizen, and I will be down. My personal favorite is the gold-plated Bic pen cap coke spoon (left) - for novelty, of course. Other masterpieces of modern design include the cross-shaped scrubbing brush, the blood rug, and the bulletproof ballistic nylon brooch. It's the collection of home items I'd design if I could design things. Please oh please oh please oh please. I'll act surprised, promise. Sigh.

Instead of...

Designer Dick
There's something about too-thought-out, too-serious sex toys which is a turn off. If someone hands you a gold-plated vibrator, for example, you know several things: 1) they spent $250 on a vibrator. 2) They know nothing about female pleasure (cold metal? Nope). 3) They're the kind of person who says shit like "my young lover" and "I miss your touch" in all seriousness, and they're going to ask you to use this thing while they watch – and while you do, they're gonna say something embarassing, like "I'll only accept the very best for your body". Yech.

And there you have it. Look forward to the other Twelve Days of Shitlist in the next week. Because we at Shitparade don't always have our (heh heh) shit together, I started a little later than intended, so we're going to pass the Xmas Day mark. Which means presents forever. Because I love you.

Single black female addicted to retail,

Andrea