As sure as your drunken uncle will try to touch you in inappropriate ways, so will you be like a trucker on a meth-bender making last-minute holiday purchases. Skip the Super Wal-Mart, Prancer. I added a thimbleful of Four Loko to my eggnog, made a list of San Diego-centric items, checked it twice and then blacked out. Hey, who let my uncle in and why’s he grinning like that?
HOT PIECE OF GLASS
It’s a fact: After the end of days, all that will be left on this Earth is landfill waste and Cher. Do your part to reduce the impact of the former by supporting East County’s Bottle Hood, a glass-repurposing outfit that breathes new life into bottles discarded from area clubs and restaurants, producing one-of-a-kind barware, jewelry, home accessories and more. Find them on Saturdays at the Little Italy Mercato, Sundays at the Hillcrest Farmers Market and online at bottlehood.com. Coca Cola-upcycled earrings? You’ll run across ’em there ($20). southern Comfort pendant light? They have you covered for $69. Now if only they could have done something about Burlesque.
YOU’RE A GREEN ONE
Launched this past May, San Diego-based SproutRobot is a free web service that, based on your zip code, indicates the best time to plant fruits and vegetables in your garden. For a nominal fee, they’ll also send someone on your list certified organic heirloom seeds to boot: $19.99 a year will ensure your patio garden is the talk of the town; $39.99 ups the ante with enough seeds for a full 8-foot bed; and $59.99 provides the whole enchilada verde, Little Shop of Horrors-style. sproutrobot.com
TO A T
Complain about the gloomy weather all you want—San Diego is pretty much an all-year-round T-shirt kinda town. So why not think outside the Hanes tagless box? As a stencil artist, Exist 1981’s average day involves a hefty dose of creation, prep and perhaps a little breaking and entering. His latest endeavor? A line of “very limited-edition” T-shirts for sale on his website (exist1981.com) whose vivid imagery (think: marching boom box / robot hybrids and ginormous masked luchadores) is trumped only by the item descriptions— like “to be loved for the ages” and “futuristic style… keep up!” Got a regular Picasso of your own on your list? Consider a silk-screening course at Barrio Logan’s School of Guerilla Arts. Housed inside The Roots Factory (1878 Main St.), a four-hour introductory lesson starts at just $25 for members. therootsfactory.com
ROCK ME, CHOCOLATE JESUS
A cornucopia of stocking stuffers await at Rock Thrift Store (3191-B Sports Arena Blvd.)—the Point Loma megachurch’s newest venture—ranging from a gaggle of slightly used wedding gowns to more Rock head pastor Miles McPherson paraphernalia than you can shake Moses’ sea-parting stick at. None is as sweet, though, as the Do Something World chocolate bar. Text on the back of the wrapper offers point-by-point instructions on how to be saved (like “Admit you’re a sinner and need Jesus Christ”). Who knew eternal life would only set you back two bucks? As far as taste goes, it’s reminiscent of a Mars bar but slightly less sinful. The best part is, if all that premium Belgian goodness leaves you feeling gluttonous, the store’s VHS section houses the coveted Thighs, Abs and Buns of Steel trilogy. For the Lord said onto Lot, “Thou shalt bounce a shekel of your wife’s salty ass.” rockthriftstore.com
STAR SEARCH
We all have that one awkward person on our list (new mail carrier, hateful grandma) that we sort of appreciate but don’t know too well. Save them the potential heart attack when they get up at night to pee by skipping the motion-sensor-animated-singing-plush aisle at Walgreens and get them something with more panache, like a hand-painted starfish tree ornament form Ocean Gift & Shells (4934 Newport Ave.). Made from mostly locally sourced sea stars, they come in an array of playful characters, from Cookie Monster to Jack Skellington ($4.99), and send out a clear message: I appreciate you, but barely enough to have not gotten you a rapping Chihuahua. oceangiftandshells.com
VOMIT INDUCED
Sure, “Here’s a piece of hanging Vomit,” doesn’t exactly conjure up a Norman Rockwell scene, but after the revolt settles, your bling-loving honey is sure to appreciate local artist Dark Vomit’s (real name: Kelly Hutchison) new line of charms. Inspired by his wackily sublime paintings, the pieces, designed by the U.K.-based Hoolala Charm Company, retail for $58. Other standouts in Hutchison’s Etsy shop (etsy.com/shop/darkvomit) include a headless chicken 10-inch collector plate ($35), a few examples of the CityBeat cover artist’s newfound obsession with gun-toting clowns and an original painting depicting a beer-bong-drinking messiah aptly titled “When in Rome” ($600).
THAR HE BLOWS
Known for exposing active-duty military men, the granddaddy of gay porn, Dirk Yates, has finally come out with a line of adult toys sure to make your Private’s privates stand up and salute. Available at specialty websites as well as Yates central—Midway’s Adult Depot (3487 Kurtz St.)—the line includes a grenadeshaped CyberSkin Knob Polisher ($17.95), a 12-inch Sensafirm Ass Torpedo ($25.95) and a more subdued 7-inch Ass Rocket (18.95), described as “the smallest weapon of ass destruction.” Ask. Tell.

San Diego Unseen: An Urban Portrait

