The problem is that last's years grotesque is this year's meh, and one has to swirl further and further down the septic tank drain field in order to fulfill the desire for even more grotesque grotesqueness.
You nailed it.
Dittoes.
What’s gross this year is normal the next.
Gross can never be as disturbing as falling into the hands of a truly great director when you least expect it. I won’t name the one that cured me of falling for the “can you handle THIS” ploy.