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Don’t Bother to Bring Your Goat to the Antiques Roadshow

5 Jan

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Best of 2011: Bat Country

27 Dec

These are my favorite Bat Country posts from 2011.

I Can’t Decide On Just One, So I’m Sending Them All

25 Dec

Thrift Store Gore: Christmas Special

24 Dec

 “I see you when you’re sleeping. I know when you’re awake. AND ALONE.”

“Get me outta here, will ya? I have a sleigh to pull for Dick Chaney.”

“Just ate all the Sugarplum Fairies, LOL.”

“I think the baby Jesus is faaaaaaabulous!”

“Zorro made it himself!”

“You shouldn’t have bought those thigh-high boots and clown hat.”

“Yo quiero your soul.”

“Ho ho ho! Santa’s been naughty.”

“MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A BUD LIGHT!”

Little Big Shop: White Elephant Extravaganza

1 Dec

This year many of you will be invited to holiday parties in which you will be required to bring a gift of questionable taste. Although terms vary from place to place, this is generally what’s known as a White Elephant Gift Exchange. A good friend of mine has participated in such an exchange with her siblings for many years, and each year they try to outdo each other by finding the most ridiculous, most ludicrous gift of them all.

Perhaps you have been invited to such a get together? If so, do I have the Thrift Store Gore for you.

Yes, I’ve seen some pretty awful things in thrift stores over the years. Adult-sized Spiderman Underoos. A luncheon with a cheetah. Whatever this is. But now, dear readers, you can own a piece of Thrift Store Gore history. I have assembled some of my weirdest finds so you can become Queen (or King, we don’t hate) of the Gift Exchange.

These last few months have been spent tracking down the weirdest thrifted items to ensure only the most tasteless and uniquely terrible gift giving possible.

How about a decorative plate, commemorating different school houses that burned down?

Or a  book called “Wild Animals at Home,” a primitive predecessor of LOLCATS, in which someone took photos of animals at the zoo and then wrote offensive, and at times, horribly sexist, captions underneath them.

The author thinks animals really hate Democrats.

It’s a fun read for the kids! (Not really!)

I’m pretty taken with this handcrafted abalone lamp sombody’s cracked-out uncle cobbled together from a sea shell, a light socket, and an electrical cord. Bonus: it might be a fire hazard!

Years ago my friend Stefanie and I found a book called “I Can’t Think Of A Thing To Say!” while thrifting. It gives all sorts of advice on what to say to that boss hunk with the parachute pants.

The inside cover says “Especially for Girls.” It looks like Kotex packaging.

For those with crazy parents, who wouldn’t want to give them a “SPEAKING OF THE GRANDCHILDREN” photo album from 1970? (My mom thought this was a great idea, actually. But since she has only one grandchild I’d have to fill the rest of the album with cat photos.)

Last but not certainly not least, I found a creepy Anne Geddes doll that suggests she may be into furries. Give this to that extra irritating coworker who belches loudly and smells of Redbull, powdered donuts, and hopelessness.

But wait, there’s more! The first customer to purchase something from this section of my shop will get this slightly disturbing sheet of vintage wrapping paper free:

It’s a little crinkled so I’m not selling it, although it’s definitely weird enough to qualify as Thrift Store Gore.

Those of you who’ve purchased from me before know that each order comes with a photo thank you card and these gifts are no exception. Lucky buyers of Thrift Store Gore will get a photo of drunk Santa for your troubles. Someone’s been naughty this year! SPOILER ALERT: It’s Santa.

Stop by the shop and visit the Post-Cyber-Monday Sale, and pick up some Thrift Store Gore while you’re at it. Because you are never too old to be eaten by an Anne Geddes bear.

Thanksgiving PSA

23 Nov

These are two of the pumpkins we grew.

These are two of the pumpkins we grew on cat butt.

Any questions?

Welcome To My Spam Folder

10 Nov

It’s time to open my spam folder and read some Useful Life Content! Let’s see what the robots have for us today.

Oh! My first ever comment from the Monopoly Man! Unfortunately for him I can’t be arrested for being among the 99%.

Thrifting, domesticity, and sex publicing. It’s what I do. I’m a giver.

I’m flattered! Especially since this praise comes from the Cancer Institute…?

(Click on image to see full-size.)

I honestly wonder if some enterprising young spammer used Dragon Dictation during Rush Limbaugh’s show and used the resulting text as spam. Anthony said it’s as if regular spam is getting more annoying, like it’s evolving. Of all the liberal-minded posts this could have attached itself to, I think this comment was left on an innocuous post I wrote about my elliptical machine.

No.

(Click on image to see full-size.)

This comment went on for PAGES and PAGES and PAGES. Seriously. I would have had to do a screen capture three or four times to get the whole message, but to sum it up: he concludes with the argument that he, himself, is a god, though an admittedly crappy one by his own standards. This is one of the weirdest comments I’ve ever received, including the comment about Sasquatch and the one the simply said, “I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather.”

Until next time, robots!

You are a Moutardier

1 Nov

Do you know how long I’ve been looking for a cute vintage soap dispenser? For the last five years of my life. No, longer. Since we moved into this house. Seven years? Can you even imagine how many times I’ve gone thrifting in the last seven years? As many times as there are grains of sand on the beach, stars in the sky, mutated forms of the herpes virus in Paris Hilton. Finally, a couple weeks ago, I find this little number. I may have cried a little.

It is perfection! Milkglass! And yellow! With a goddamn mushroom on it! It was waiting on the shelf for me to find it. At two dollars it was getting pretty close to my flinch point. But it was worth it for how long I’ve waited.

I washed it and filled it with soap as soon as we got home, tossing the plastic bottle from the store in the recycling bin. I tried it giddily, pumping pumping pumping. Nothing. Pumping pumping pumping. Nada.

The pump doesn’t work. It tried fixing it, but short of replacing the pump, it’s broken. Along with my hopes and dreams. Why you gotta play me like that, Goodwill?

Snapshot

6 Oct

Over the weekend I mentioned on twitter that I do a fairly accurate Baby Jaguar impersonation due to my frequent exposure to Go, Diego, Go. When challenged to offer up proof of this, I somewhat unwisely shot this video with Isobel. Just in case you were wondering what a grown-ass woman impersonating a talking jaguar sounds like. You’re welcome. I also maybe allude to the fact Foofa sounds high. Maybe.

Notable things that also I occurred this past week: I successfully put my bestie’s toddler Kingston down for a nap, Tristina surprised me by sending me these gorgeous handwarmers, and Laura posted this hilarious video. It’s at the end, so keep scrolling down past all those adorable photos of her daughter Sonora no matter how much it makes your ovaries twinge. Anthony and I also took some time out to go to the amazing Ansel Adams exhibit at a local museum and then on a grown-up date to a local brewery.

Yesterday I posted some Halloween decoration inspiration and I threatened to name my front door gnome Marky Mark if a better suggestion wasn’t made. My favorite nominees include: Gnoman Mailer, Gnome Chomsky, Gnome Deplume, Gnome Mercy, Snooki, and Matt Damon.  Marky Mark was declared the winner, however, after it was pointed out that the rest of my gnomes would qualify as the Funky Bunch. I think I’m going to have to update my Life List to reflect this ideal.

Scrapbook: Tea Time

4 Oct

Anthony was right.  Zorro and Poppy do love the jellyfish tent. Fortunately, they love it for more than just scratching and attacking. Sometimes they like to be civilized.

He kind of reminds me of Jabba the Hutt here. Surveying his domain.

 

“You guys don’t mind if my butt is in the frame, right? Great.”

I call this expression, “American Gothic if it were to take place in a jellyfish tent surrounded by a child’s tea set and enacted by animals.” You know, art.

Have I mentioned that Poppy is kind of a spaz?

She’s a cute spaz, at least.