28 October 2013

Dirty QWERTY makes everything more enjoyable

So today I attempt to create a post on my phone with the slide typing on the Blogger website (rather than the app) because the computer is still out of service and this post really requires two photos (which the Blogger app doesn't allow for whatever reason). Dog #1 is dozing under my arm and Dog#2 is dozing behind the couch (both are snoring) and life is good. Seems like the type of atmosphere that is conducive to these kind of things but I really miss having a QWERTY I can clickity clack my fingers across. I refuse to allow this device of convenience to kill my vocabulary; however, I may be unable to stop the atrophy of my finger muscles if I let the keyboard lie untouched for much longer. I believe I will have to visit her and caress her plastic keys very soon (especially considering NaNoWriMo begins on Friday and I am determined to complete a novel -- not just come up with a million distractions and excuses not to).

That being said, feast your eyes on this:

And you may ask yourself...What 
is this oversized voodoo doll doing in the thrift shop?  That is a question for another day. Today, I simply implore you to look cloooser, Simba.

26 October 2013

I love you like a tomato...

a) ...but you need to hurry and ketchup.
b) ...but I love your parents like an  aubergine.
c) ...because tomatoes are the same color as blood and just as delicious.
d) Contrary to popular belief, tomatoes are actually very loving.

24 October 2013

Catalina Island

...a place where salad dressing is born. It is also a place of amazing wine mixers.

20 October 2013


For once, I don't feeling like waxing tangential tonight. (Could be that I'm tired.) A quick quip or two should get us through this tunnel of sadness.

#1 Get your "cool" OUT of my "pool"! It doesn't belong there. (Unless I've been misspelling "cpoolool" all this time and didn't realize it.)

Brown-nosing Campaign Gone Awry

I swear I wrote a post last night. I have no idea where all of my text ran off to, nor do I know why it did not get posted. That being said, the joke I made was something along the lines of "Looking for the perfect card for your terrible balls?"

Actually that was supposed to be boss but t2t  strikes again! (Though I suppose your balls could use a greeting card every once in a while. It's hard work being stuck next to Penis all the time.)

I also recall a tirade on the overlap of holidays in retail but that topic's been hashed and rehashed and is trending on Twitter currently so... (I don't f****** know; I'm still apathetic towards Twitter.)

Back to the photo...which is conveniently placed at the bottom of this post whenever I do mobile blogging (meh). When would it be appropriate to use a Halloween card as a Bosses Day card? The Wicked Witch of the West, maybe?  Voldemort? Someone with a humpback or skin condition? (The previous candidates definitely qualify here.) I don't know. Post your thoughts below.

18 October 2013

This shit is bananas

...and the bananas are shit, according to the lack of variety on the Goodwill bookshelf.

Maybe the blurb on the back of the book can explain the repulsive power of Eliot's Bananas...

"Things should be peachy. Junie isn't entirely sure what her problem is. She's just moved into a Brooklyn apartment with her cool longtime boyfriend Leon, a drummer who adores her. She flits through a string of temp jobs in funky thrift shop clothes. But beneath her veneer of quirky humor there's a nagging feeling of dissatisfaction with her life.

She's about to go bananas. When Junie meets Eliot, who is twice her age, and his cat, Alfie, at the vet's office, she's convinced she's found the zest that's missing in her life. A burnt-out sci-fi writer in search of a muse, Eliot is apples to Junie's oranges. It's not long before Junie's in his kitchen being offered a banana...and then some.

Losing herself in the mayhem of a fling, Junie slowly realizes that kinky diversions are a poor distraction from what's really eating her.
Only when she stops obsessing about Eliot and starts peeling away the layers of her family's past will she see that what she really wants has been waiting for her all along...and that her future's ripe with possibilities."

I love puns, but this blurb is a mess. My guess? The book's a lemon.

17 October 2013

Terrorism 101

If you're a fan of cavity searches and staring contests with federal agents, grab this shirt befofe heading to the airport.

(Short post because I'm posting guiltily while hanging with friends.)

The Power of Three

Are you trying to boss me around or just propositioning me? (Or, dare I say...both???)

I wish I'd bought this, if just to see the reaction on a friend's face when (s)he opened the gift box.

16 October 2013

Six Minutes!

I really have no time if I want to make my deadline, so I will just say...


I wish I has bought this tripartite of portraits so I could recreate the effects with Rick Astley photos.

The big question would be whether I would display them in the same room -- so the joke was a quick one -- or in separate locations -- so as to set two different themes for the rooms.

Damn, I missed the deadline by a minute.

14 October 2013

Walt Whittleman

"Push it. Push it real good."

These Are a Few of My Favorites

1. People watching at the gym
2. Window shopping
3. Sarcasm
4. Grammar
5. Salt and Pepper shakers
-13. Taking out the trash
165. '90s nostalgia

Many of these things meet in the trash bungalow (or, as I meant to type, "can below").

I had intended to grow this tedious and trying-too-hard (there has got to be a single word to express the adjectival sense of that idea, bit nothing that comes to mind feels right) introduction into a punchline, delivered at the moment of rhetorical climax, but I can't see beneath the ellipsis that parts the two things in my mind. So I give up will try again.

[My Revisory Committee is in session so it will improve upon my previous paragraph now. See below.]

"I had intended to fluff this flaccid and overcompensating foreplay (of words) into an ejaculation released at the moment of (rhetorical) climax, but I have a headache."

In other news, if at first you don't succeed*...don't take "no" for an answer (wink wink RAPE).

*I am eternally amused by this New cell phone because its autocorrect faculty creates the illusion of Freudian slips. Take above, for example. The phone chose to repeat some words...to arrive at the inspirational message: "If at first you don't succeed, don't succeed."

I will leave you with that. But I'll be back Solomon (or "sooooon").

13 October 2013

Holy typo, Batman!

I suppose I should find some fodder for today's bit.

Since I don't have much time before the day ends (this fact being important because a. Waiting until 12:01 to finalize this post will cause me to fail at consecutive days blogging which exacerbates my just-below-the-surface OCD and b. This post can only handle a few "well-placed" tangents, a fact which determines the maximum blog length), I offer you a flowchart to explain the sequence of book titles. An interpretation of their adjacencies' sequence, if you will:

The Ultimate Guide to Atlanta Schools: "I am looking for a college but can't relocate and ( don't wanna get into too much debt / only have community college SAT scores)."

Your Way to Success: "Surely education is the way to get ahead in this world."

The Psychology of The Sopranos: "But TV tells me that ingenuity and an enterprising spirit (and crime) get you ahead in this world. I believe everything I see on TV."

You Can Have It All:
"Yes, I can see how becoming a mob boss might lead to feelings of entitlement (and, I imagine, fulfillment).

Fish!: A Remarkable Way to Raise Morale and Deliver Results:
"Yes, I trust a mob boss has some pretty remarkable techniques to deliver results. I guess the morale boosts involve some sort of monetary incentive."

Raising Kids Who Care and A Practical Guide for New Dads seem a bit incongruous, but I invite your exposition.

12 October 2013

Mold imconvenience

So the computer is dead but now I have this fancy smartphone that presumes to know what i'm typing. I downloaded the blogger app to tide us over until the computer gets fixed. (For what it's worth, the computer should be an easy fix, but since it took me a week to convince myself to go grocery shopping -- fall is beautiful! -- it may be another week before it's fixed.)

That being said, bask in the hilarity of this grammar Nazi's predicament (and that's to say nothing about the limitations imposed on my tangential cerebral pathways) and look at a few photos with me.

Alright, so it appears that the mobile Blogger limits me to a single pic. But perhaps that's a better way to get the job done. I mean, feng shui is about clearing out the clutter so your chi doesn't get clogged. It seems that headless Supermom is my chi's laxative.


(Though I could definitely be more regular. In blogging...or whatever.)

So about Supermom: Wouldn't you think a headless body the antithesis of a hero? I mean even when Superman died -- it's not a spoiler if it happened over a decade ago (just don't tell the Neo-Nazi amnesiac what came of Hitler unless you like eating curbs) -- his head was still attached. Pretty sure even zombie superheroes retain some part of their heads...but not Supermom! Who needs a head with a brain to question traditional gender roles when your womb churns out boys that your breast milk (nectar of the gods...er, Christian God) turns into moral and upstanding citizens? Why not replace your finely-coiffed mane with some metal hooks...God knows you could use some more places to hang your pots and pans.

13 September 2013

The Payback

Rather than hoarding all of my photos so I only have to go shopping once a month (God knows I frequent the thrift shops more often than that), I'm going to take you shopping with me this time around. Hopefully your internet connection is fast enough to handle all the photos I'm sending your way. If not, feel free to bitch about it in the comments.

I visited Shallowford Goodwill to find a few summery dresses with blue tags (50% off this week). I filled up an entire cart and hogged a dressing room for almost an hour, but rustled up 9 dresses, 2 purses, and a Disney Dinosaur mug for just over $50. Not a bad day in all.

This "dress" did not make the cut.

The rest of these photos are from a few days later, after I had recovered from the scowls from women inconvenienced by my extended stay in the dressing room. (Side note: There were 2 other women's dressing rooms in this shop kept locked until employees unlocked them. I won't feel guilty for others' reluctance to seek out an employee with a key.)

After an encounter with my armchair's doppelganger...

$20 at a different Goodwill, but it matches the decor here better.
...After some more memorable clothing missteps...

An AK-47 is a bitch to get through airport security and your sniper rifle is just another checked bag. Skip the $50 luggage fee and the wasted hours  in a holding cell and just bring your own guns in this baby pink muscle tee.

Pairs well with fried chicken.
Only Poo(h) can justify adult overalls.
  [After all that which came before]...I came across a strange collection:

It would be irresponsible to omit the holiday teapots.

Now, I collect salt and pepper shakers (still working out a way to display them, but I digress)...so I'm not here to judge. But I couldn't help but wonder what world event had caused someone to discard their cherished collection.

I considered making a Kim Jong-un joke, but my Google search pulled up recent news stories about the execution of his ex-girlfriend by firing squad for having some old sex tapes so I will have to pass on Plan A. Suffice to say, there are so many layers of wrong in that situation and it's well past time to break that monster's teapot.

Back to my lighter tone...why would someone abandon an entire teapot collection? I suppose a guy whose wife had run out on him or something equally reprehensible might demand the collection in the divorce and then promptly trash them. But I would think this hypothetical guy would be more apt to shatter the ceramic atrocities. So we'll scratch grass widower (thefreedictionary's male counterpart to divorcée) from the list.

My other thought was a person displeased with a relative's will. "My older brother gets the house, my little sister gets the Mercedes, and I get a &%*@# teapot collection!?" (Though, the house could very easily be a money pit and the car missing an engine block...or you could just be an asshole that your parents never loved as much as their other offspring.)

The third and most likely explanation for the teapots is that a lady just woke up one day and said to herself, "Myrtle, it's going to be a helluva a lot easier to fit a salt and pepper shaker collection in your nursing home room than all these teapots."

Teapots were just the gateway drug to other fantastic figurines.

It's time to start gathering your Christmas decorations and dusting off your Nativity set. But what if you open the dusty "XMAS" cardboard box to find Joseph's been decapitated over the last year? Why, visit your local thrift shop, of course!

And as any good Christian knows, no Nativity set is complete without a Hindu goddess. (I think this is Sita, but I'm not an authority so research it on your own.)

What do you think about the new addition, Melchior? Surely you've got something on your mind that you want to let out?

A wise guy, eh?
Hey, hey, hey. No need to be a dirty old man. There are kids around.

Those teapots are looking better and better. (Where would you put these stupid things? Why?)

But then again, kids inspire these crazy figurines because they are crazy little creatures. Check out the toys they're playing with these days:

Albino Birdo piggy bank
This elf is 66% creepier in real life.

And look how they're applying their powers of imagination:

According to this diorama: Ecuador is known for its cartographers (though the tools suggest architecture), inferior mortar work, and...nothing else. If someone can point to any deeper meaning, I would be grateful.

And if that crafty creation wasn't enough to persuade you of the inane and insane minds of the young'uns:

My heart hippo on a string
How many ball scarves could one person need?
I was wondering about that hippo on a string, but when I flipped it over everything was crystal clear. I mean, look at what we're giving our kids to read:

Chris Hansen does not approve.

It's enough to make even the superest mom lose her head.

I see what I did there.
 Well, when life gets too overwhelming...food.


If you're afraid of overindulging, you can always use a scale.

Only compatible with Atkins diet plans.

Or if you're afraid of underindulging, use the scale for appetite-stimulating herbs start the beers a-flowin'.

Red Lobster can haz beer club?

No matter how plastered you might be at this point, don't forget to grab an oven mitt when you remove your delicious Kwanzaa feast from the rack. (FYI: Christmas doesn't have sole rights to gingerbread cookies.)

Do you know the Muffin Man? Sodomy is kinda his thing.
Just pray that your feasting and binge drinking isn't followed immediately by a reenactment of Human Centipede.

Or the lesser known blaxploitation film Goose Centipede.

(Just so we're clear, the villain in Goose Centipede -- Jackson Sassafras -- connects all of their intestines, bypassing the three smaller ducks' esophagi.)

While we're on the topic of anal probing and exploratory surgery, I turn your attention to these yet-unidentified tools:

Neon colors make everything whimsical!
Before I headed home, I swung by the books. Three snapshots before I go ("Finally!" They sigh in relief).
What was I going to say about this?
Your Way to Success, sponsored by The Sopranos.
Well, of course they did!
Okay, friends. That was fun but a bit exhausting. Maybe one of these days I'll make regular blogging my thing. Until then, try to appreciate the fact that we just went shopping together for an hour. Come along IRL sometime?

22 August 2013


Just mowed the lawn and I know that if I don't actively seek out this blog, I won't write today. So here I am, without any topic or pictures chosen yet, to share my particular blend of crazy [critical analysis] with you. Let's hope it's worth our time.


My most recent upload was heavy on "fashion", so we'll be working with that theme.

The problem with seeking threads at a thrift shop is that the vast majority of items are outdated by at least a decade. I seem to have stepped into an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

Now, Uncle Phil was most often coming from the courtroom or some political bullshit, so he was suited up most of the time. But when it was time to go casual, he turned to the vest.

Another vest addict: Full House's Steve (aka Aladdin)

The next piece was likely passed back and forth between Hilary and Aunt Vivan, with varying levels of success failure.

Show off your toned arms with this fashion catastrophe.

Next up, a great shirt to wear when you're being thrown out of a Bel Air mansion.

Somebody (a DJ?) just jazzed himself remembering this look.

Next up, a great shirt to wear when you're being thrown out of a Bel Air mansion West Philadelphia.

Big Willie Style
I didn't come across any Geoffrey-appropriate formal wear and I am averse to touching used tube tops so we'll have to skip Ashley as well. But I did find an interesting polo:

Look closer.

I can think of only one character who could pull this off.

"You know you want it." -- Robin Thicke

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