With very few exceptions, I generally don't like things that are cute. This is good information to know about me because, say you're at the Hallmark store in the mall or, god forbid, Hobby Lobby, and you spot something on the shelf that just almost makes you burst, "Oh that's cute!" - it's a good indicator that probably you won't want to buy that for me as a gift. Cute is far too overrated, and hogs much of the world's affection - undeservedly, I might add.

Cute is just... well, it's just not me.

Opposite of cute are things that are scary. Scary doesn't get any hugs-n-kisses. In fact, scary spits on your hugs-n-kisses. As far as scary's concerned, you can take your hugs-n-kisses and stick 'em where the sun don't shine, so you can just hug-n-kiss scary's ass. Well, I'm not a big fan of scary either. Scary takes itself too seriously, it seems to me, which strikes me as kind of silly. And I'm of the opinion that if you're going to be silly, it oughta be intentional.

So that's why I do so very much love things that are cute and scary. In fact, (brain-drops on roses and blisters on kittens!) these are a few of my favorite things.

(Quick aside: Negativland's version of Favorite Things is a great example of scary and cute in music. Download it. And if you're worried about "stealing" copyrighted material - it didn't stop them, so why let it stop you?)

So, what qualifies as scary and cute? I'll give you a few examples.

A few months ago, the back windowsill of my flat became the new home for a Sunshine Buddy. Sunshine Buddies are solar powered. Yes, harnessing the power of sunshine, they sit blissfully in your window and tilt their heads from side to side with smiles that radiate pure contentment. Sunshine buddies are inarguably cute.

Well, this particular Sunshine Buddy never seemed to want to rock his head for some reason. But nevertheless, he seemed to enjoy smiling away his days, sitting motionless in the sunshine.

Then one night I stepped onto the patio and sensing movement, glanced at the windowsill. There was Sunshine Buddy, smiling, looking at me, rocking his head from side to side, in the dark. My Sunshine Buddy runs on darkness.

If you've ever felt a chill that pierces clean through you to the very marrow of your bones, you know what it feels like to catch a Sunshine Buddy staring at you from a dark corner. May you never have to experience such sheer terror.

I have a friend who is a freakishly talented artist from Lincoln, Nebraska who really gets the beauty of scary & cute.

In fact, that's not a bad description of him either.

Remember his name: Paul Tisdale. He's going to be big I tell you - most likely posthumously, but isn't that the way?

(That's his stuff there on the right)

But of all things scary and cute, my favorite - the one closest to my heart - is an actual living, breathing creature. Of course I'm speaking of that quite possibly insane feline with nearly as many names as the devil himself, Blinker Joseph Pasta Batman Chickenbrain Razor Paws.

Now, if you share my appreciation for cute, scary things, you may want to make a pilgrimage to Italy, to visit the world's most terrifying stuffed pink bunny. It sits on a mountainside and is two-hundred feet long. According to the artists, the bunny was "knitted by dozens of grannies out of pink wool" and will remain on the mountain for the next 20 years. How cute! And it scares the hell out of me.

So many questions, where do I start? Were these grannies knitting at home alone in their rocking chairs? in a group "Knitting-circle" type setting? or was this some kind of "granny sweatshop?"

If it's made of wool, what will happen when it rains?

Who is going to clean it?

It's going to be on the mountain for 20 years. And for 19.5 years, it's going to be one of the nastiest things anywhere on earth. Things will start growing on it, and in it. Animals will find ways to nest there. It will smell.

According to the artists, they expect people to climb on it and "relax on its belly." Imagine if you found a child's stuffed bunny rabbit that had been laying outside in the dirt and mud for the past 20 years. Are you picturing it? The dirty, matted fur? The stains and the musty smell? The who-knows-what kind of eggs or weird spores that might be nestled inside it? Would your first thought be, "Man I sure wish that were 100 times bigger so I could climb into it and take a nap!"

But I hope they're right, because I can not imagine a more awesome sight than children and Alpine hikers climbing upon and lounging in the damp and stained folds of a filthy, moldy, stuffed pink wool bunny rabbit corpse - perhaps singing in harmony The Hills Are Alive!