Friday, March 26, 2010
"This dress has been here for two years!" exclaimed my daughter.
"Can't imagine why," I said, eying the rectangular and ribbed velour creation, fashionably and tastefully done in two colors: the top a charming beigeish baby shit brown and the bottom that particular maroon that screams there's dried blood in the old basement carpet and you're about to wear it, Scarlett O'Hara.
There was also a bright yellow power dress with navy polka dots that would be excellent for attacking things - any prey animal or subordinate office worker would be blinded and dazzled enough not to notice how you were clutching the sharpened letter opener - and a log. Yes, a log. Like, you know, a log. Such as one finds in the woods or the woodpile. This log, however, had a quarter section sawed out of it so I guess it was a special log. I didn't see how much they wanted for it but you could buy a strange, vaguely gun shaped wooden object with shiny pencils and a reel full of pink string for a mere $2. They also had a bunch of tables with remaindered and terrible kitchen objects like pointy plastic things theoretically for scooping pasta and any number of novelty egg timers shaped like eggs (of course) and timers (how boring) and hamburgers (inexplicable) which kept going off randomly. I got some novelty party toothpicks - they look like little flip flops and palm trees! - and a pile of paperbacks, although I put one back after Audrey pointed out that I had just sent it to Goodwill from her house a few months ago.
In other news, there is no other news. This is a Good Thing.