All I Want for Christmas...

The vest, that jaunty stance, those freakishly white shoes - I think I'm in love! At least as much as a suburban father of two can be with a twelve inch action figure. Don't ask why. Okay, perhaps it's because he reminds me so much of me - should I get shipped overseas, don oddly-cut dungarees and forget how to properly hold a TV news camera. Whatever the case, I want one, which is why I'm forever positioning him front and center on my humble site. Here's the plan: Either I score some unlikely endorsement deal with the makers of said doppelganger - or for once Mrs. Lenslinger checks out my blog and drops a suitable hint in Santa's ear. Otherwise I'll be forced to place the order myself, then play dumb when the swarthy little dude arrives via big brown truck. Then and only then would I have a proper media member to disaptch should calamity break out at my daughter's Barbie Dreamhouse. Hey, it could happen...