Monday, July 5, 2010

Thrift Store Thursday...It's Baaaaaaaack!

Did ya miss me?

Ya missed me, ya missed me, now ya gotta kiss me!

OK, I am a little punchy. Blame it on the 100 degree plus weather and a day of Chuck E Cheese and Toy Story 3. I do be FRIED, friends.

But I also managed a thrift store trip. Woot!

Let me say that I scoured the NC thrift stores while vacay-ing in NC. My nieces were excited to help me search out the crap (Hi Kay-Kee and Bug!) but alas, no crap was found. I guess NC'ers either a. have no crap, or b. like their crap and keep it.

But I am back in Pennsyltucky, and (What? The hell you say...?) there are loads of crap here. Buttloads.

It is an animal... type... thing....yeah. And it is made of....shells. Surely a one of a kind craptastic creation!

But as I walked along the back wall, lo and behold...

The OCD in me was tempted to walk it back across the store to pair it to its mate, but then I thought to myself, hey, self, nobody needs two of those. I mean, dang, that is too greedy. There are not enough shell animals to go around, people. Let's make it a limit of one per customer.

Now, I ask you, why the hell is this woman so happy? I can honestly say that in my 30-plus years of vacuuming experience, not once have I felt such joy when doing this task that I had to throw out my arm in a Broadway-esque pose and say "ta da!" She has such a look of pure bliss on her face as well. And to think, these were the days BEFORE Prozac. She has either been hitting the sauce, or is super-jazzed about cleaning her groovy sunken living room. My bet is on the consumption of many, many Harvey Wallbangers.

And while Betty Jean was busy tidying up before the Mister came home from a hard day at the office, little Lisa was busy whipping up brownies, courtesy of a powder packet, water, and a light bulb...

Note that the little pink box says "Child tested since 1965" and from the looks of this package, that would have been just one short year ago. Yes, they were actually selling this. But hey, a little botulism is a small, small price to pay for a nostalgic trip down memory lane.

This, I love. This, I almost bought. It is sort of the grouch's answer to a welcome sign. I like the no-nonsense approach. It is kind of like, "Hey, good to see you! Come in, sit a spell! And if you act like a bitch I will throw you right out!"

But I thought it might send the wrong message. Seeing as how my husband likes to tell me I can be abrasive, I guess I should go with a cheery Welcome! sign instead.

And, by the way, to said husband, when he calls me abrasive, I tell him to kiss my ass.

What...? Is that wrong?