Tragedy at Bethlehem

With a purposeful grimace and a terrible sound he pulls the speeding high tension wires down

Helpless people on subway trains scream bug-eyed as he looks in on them

He picks up a bus and he throws it back down as he wades through the buildings in the center of town

Oh, no .... they say he's got to go

GO GO GODZILLA! (whooa ohh ohh)



Oh, no ..... there goes Tokyo Bethlehem



GO GO GODZILLA!









Rock on, Godzillacat.

The year in review

Let's see ........



In April, I quit smoking after thirty years.



In July, I became a first-time homeowner.



Peeps, I can't go any bigger than that.



Happy New Year!

The most fun ever

Every year, on Christmas Eve, I give my Mom a Christmas stocking filled with stuff from the dollar store - Puzzles, pretty soaps, warm gloves, candy, etc. As usual, this year I ended up buying way more stuff than I needed for her stocking (the dollar store does that to me). And when I ended up with some stuff from the office gift exchange that I already had, I really had a surfeit of stocking stuffers.



So I Secret-Santa'd my neighbors.

Two of my neighbors are women who live alone and don't seem to get much company. I wrapped up all the extra stuff, put it in gift bags, donned a trench coat and a Santa hat, and on Christmas Eve I left the bags on their porches.



And I had SO MUCH FUN wrapping up all that stuff and deciding who got what and sneaking through the neighborhood (don't call 911! It's just me!) that I think I'll do it again next year. Maybe pick a few more neighbors.



Next to the owl hooting, that was the best part of my Christmas.

Wait a minute .....

.... I can't even take a tube of christing toothpaste on a flight, and some asshole already on a watch list manages to carry on enough sh*t to take down an entire plane?



And then we have Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano, after this sh*t goes down, saying flying is "very, very safe"?



F*ck you, bitch. No it AIN'T.

and I can't get it out of my head

I saw a deer get hit by an SUV last night.

Actually, I would have hit the deer if I had been just a few seconds later. It was dark and I was on a busy two-lane road, going about 50, with cars behind me and cars going the other direction next to me when I saw the deer step out of the woods and onto the shoulder on my side of the road. I couldn't slam on the brakes because of the other traffic, so all I could do was pump the brakes and watch as the deer hesitated, then jumped into the road right in front of me.

I missed it, barely, but an SUV going the other direction nailed it. I heard an incredibly loud CRRRRRUUNNNNNCCCHHHHH and watched in my rearview as hooves flew in the air and the SUV lurched onto the shoulder. When I got home I checked the car, fully expecting the driver's side to be covered in blood, but it wasn't.

And I know I'll be thinking about this for a long time.

I remember several years ago, driving that same section of road, and watching a cop pull his service revolver and shoot a deer that had been injured in a car collision.

And there was that time I saw a cat ........ oh jeezus christ I still can't talk about that.

And I don't understand why I can't just put this stuff out of my mind and forget about it. I mean, I don't bring back good times in my mind in graphic detail; it's just the nasty stuff that sears itself onto my brain and lurches to the surface, unbidden, from time to time. I wonder why.

Well, at least THAT'S over with

Actually, I like everything about Christmas except the day itself, when I have to spend time with people I do not like. Bah. It helped to know that I don't have to see these folks again until Easter.

But! I got through the day without killing anybody or even making any snarky remarks. Well, there was that one incident with the monster truck show*, but that's between Ditzy and me.

My Christmas bonus came through, meaning that I spent yesterday morning at Home Depot buying new light fixtures for the bathroom. Woot!

My sister Texas was nice enough to gift me the new Stephen King book, which weighs approximately ten pounds and is over 1,000 pages long. I predict a March finish. Shit, I don't even think the Bible has that many pages.

By far the coolest part of the weekend came yesterday afternoon, when I was out in the woods and heard an owl calling. I've been spending a good chunk of my weekends in forests for years now, and that was the first time I've ever heard an owl call. Hoo hoo hooooooo hooo hooo. TOO COOL.

I hope everybody had a good Christmas, and nobody's in jail for murdering a relative or anything. Ho ho ho!






*Did you know that there's a TV channel devoted entirely to monster truck shows? Is true! And it doesn't even have, like, a voiceover or anything, it just shows monster trucks jumping over stuff again and again and again, with a heavy-metal soundtrack. It's EXTREMELY popular with my two-year-old nephew, whose favorite Christmas present was something called a "Gravedigger". Yeah.

All is calm, all is bright .....

Merry Christmas from our house to yours!

My Christmas gift to you

First off, to everyone who sent me a card, thank you very much! You're helping to make the new house a home.

Now, a blast from the past.

Scene from a wedding:





HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

There's so much to say about this, where do I even start? How about:

Out of the five people in the photo, three of them have bad spiral perms. Hell, just because it was 1984, that's no excuse.

The cinderblock wall, with the electrical outlet hanging down. Talk about a no-budget wedding. Check out the lavish decoration: One measly paper-bell-thingie.

The maid of honor, who is apparently using her drink cup as a spitoon.

Paper plates and plastic silverware, peeps. At the wedding party's table. Jeezus Christ. Who organized this?

OhmyGAH that poufy-sleeved dress. *shudder*

The groom, who apparently thinks he is one of the landed gentry, instead of a pot-smoking, job-losing asshole.

Looking at this photo, you know I was doomed from the start. I think I realized it as soon as the reception was over, when instead of heading home to get busy (no money for a honeymoon, doncha know), the groom decided we should head over to the best man's PARENTS' house to get stoned. I shit you not. Thank god it only took me four-and-a-half years to make a break for it, and now I can look at these pics and laugh. Oh, and cringe. Lots of cringing involved as well.

So I hope you all are having a very merry Christmas, but if not, take another look at that photo and rest assured that things could be worse. Much worse.

Happy holidays!




Oh! Oh! Oh! The best part? The house I bought this past summer? I can now SEE that reception hall from my front yard. Whoa.

In which The Runt impersonates a refrigerator magnet

The magnet (the crawfish one on the right):

The Runt:

How do you like my old-lady sofa with the old-lady afghan artfully placed across the back? Bitchin', no?

We won't even talk about the f*cking Bills schedule on the fridge. Bah.

Oh, and while I'm talking about cats (jeezus anything as long as I don't have to talk about the Bills), The Runt and Little Girl aren't that fond of human food. They're not even that fond of tuna juice, which Rocky used to love. I've tried all different kinds of food with them, including broccoli and other weird shit that cat owners claim their cats adore. These guys? Not so much.

So I was really surprised when I set a cupcake on the table the other night, left the room for about thirty seconds, and came back to discover that The Runt had hoovered all the frosting off that sucker. I mean, seriously, I think he set a land speed record for getting the frosting off a cupcake.

A cat after my own heart.

This is why our taxes are so high

I was reading this thing on AOL today about this woman up in Boston who was pissed off because her son wouldn't put down his video game and go to bed.

So she called the cops.

She called the f*cking cops to come discipline her son.


You know, you need a license to get a dog, but any f*cktard can have a kid.

Check this out .......

I got a Christmas (and Hogmanay!) card from Scotland! How cool is that?

Obviously, Fish Food* and her husband have mad computer skillz - my poor cards look like a third-grader made them compared to this! (Click on the image to embiggen.)

Thanks, Fish*!




*I'm using her alias because after what happened on her blog earlier this year *cough*, I'd hate to start an international incident or something by mentioning her real name. :)

The Catholics have all the good stuff

I went to a couple of religious stores this weekend looking for images to use in some projects I've been thinking of.

I went to the local "Christian" store first, which was a total bust. It was all new-age-y and vague, with no actual images of Christ at all.

So I headed down the road to the Catholic store. Bingo! The first thing I saw when I walked through the door was a picture of Christ with his bleeding heart in his hands. Literally, he was holding his bleeding, possibly still beating heart in his hands.

Those Catholics have all the good stuff.

So I loaded up with prayer cards, little plastic Jesuses, and an illustration of a nun holding a crucifix with Christ on it.

Crazy Catholics!

And I felt a little guilty, because if the nice old lady running the store knew what I was going to use this stuff for*, she probably wouldn't have sold it to me.

That said, I'm definitely going back for more.




*Christ on a cracker. I KNOW.

..... and while I'm on the subject ...

...... of pop culture, what the f*ck is up, Survivor? You voted Shambo off? SHAMBO?

Dear Survivor-people: You need to get that little Machiavellian bastard Russell off the show RIGHT NOW. PRONTO.

I don't understand these people. They're wandering around the damn island bleating like flippin' SHEEP about how Russellllllll willl wiinnnnnn, bleattt bleattt bleattttt, when all they have to do is VOTE HIS ASS OFF.

Of course, the minute they vote him off, I'll stop watching, because then it won't be any FUN anymore, not being able to watch evil Russell manipulate his flock of freaking SHEEP, but still.

Save yourselves, Survivor-people.




Updated 12/21/09 to add: The finale was last night, and Russell lost to a woman with a Bumpit in her hair. *sigh*

Just plain wrong .....

The "Finding Nemo" ice skating spectacular is coming to our town, and the media have been flooded with ads for the show, the better to get the kiddies to beg their parents to take them.



And I have to wonder who thought up the costumes, because every time I see one of the ads, all I can think is, "what is it with the boob-eyes?"

Because, really:










Who wants to see a bunch of people skating around with eyes in their boobs? Not me. That's just creepy. It's, like, oh my God, what was that Stephen King short story where the astronaut grew an eye on the palm of his hand. Bleccch.

And how do you explain this to the kids? I'd like to be a fly on the wall for THAT conversation.

Well, I thought about the Army .....

So! Last night's Sing-Off!

First, let's backtrack to Tuesday's show. I am embarrassed to admit that when they did "Freedom 90", I knew every. single. word. And, the song got me thinking about the album it was on (yes, I said "album" - I am old) and the song "Praying for Time", which totally rules, and which I also sang, in its blessed entirety, during a commercial break.

I know the words to twenty-year-old George Michael songs! Aren't you glad you don't live with me?

Anyhoo, moving on to last night's show. That college group, the Beelzebubs, or however the hell you spell it? I've come to the conclusion that they're my faves because I have a totally inappropriate crush on the chunky, curly-haired dude. I don't know if I want to give him cookies and milk or f*ck the hell out of him, and that's just wrong.

But! "Baba O'Reilly"? Really?! Rock on, dudes!

I couldn't figure out why the lady judge was on the show, because none of her comments made any sense. Then I read the captions and discovered that she was a "Pussycat Doll", which ..... um ..... aren't they strippers? WHY IS SHE ON THE SHOW?

I'm getting a little tired of the beat-boxing. I mean, I know they need it to keep time, but still ..... and I just now thought about how much spit must be on the floor of that stage by the end of the night and ........ ew. Just ew.

Oh, and Voices of Lee did Man in the Mirror, which, Michael Jackson notwithstanding, is one of the best songs ever. I'm sorry, but that song is the shiz. Too bad Voices of Lee butchered it.

One last thing: Seeing as how BEN FOLDS is a judge, when, oh when is one of the groups going to whip out "Jesusland"? Come on, guys, there's only one night left! Man up! Or wait ..... "Army!" I wanna hear somebody sing about three sad semesters and Chick-fil-A!

My prediction? The Beezlebubs (or however the hell you spell it) for the win!

I didn't know what to do

Okay, so I was in line at the grocery store last night, and the woman ahead of me was unloading her groceries out of her cart. And she was doing it slowly, because one of her arms was crippled.

And I SO MUCH WANTED to ask if I could help, but I was afraid it would embarrass her, or insult her.

And I remembered back when my wrist was broken and my arm was in a splint, and I would have GLADLY accepted any help offered. But then I worried that maybe it was different when the disability was permanent, and maybe she'd be mortified if I tried to help. I didn't know what to do. So in the end, I did nothing, and this morning it is STILL bothering me.


So. As usual I am clueless here. Should I have asked if she needed/wanted help? Should I have just gone ahead and started unloading her groceries with her? What would you have done?

I need to know, in case it happens again.

What nerds can do

So! Last night was the first night of "The Sing-Off". Anybody besides me watch? ...... anybody?..... Bridgett?......

The opening number, "Under Pressure", really showed off what these groups can do. A cappella singing is difficult, and these guys made it look easy, letting their nerd flags fly, creating something beautiful with their voices.

And for you non-nerds, you have NO IDEA how much practice it takes to get to that level. The hours and hours and hours and hours of often mind-numbingly boring practice, practice, practice.

Cool kids would never try, but the nerds sure will.


A few notes from the show: I'm sure glad they aren't using props, because that would pretty much suck. I can't figure out if that Mormon girl always rocks the bleach-blonde fauxhawk, or if the producers told her to do it. Speaking of which, who the hell is picking those god-awful outfits? And I'm not sure what the barbershop gals are doing there - that rendition of "Dancing Queen" was pretty f*cking painful.

That said, will I keep watching?

Aw yeah.

O Christmas Tree

Remember last year, when I ended up with Stabby, the Homicidal Christmas Tree?


As it turned out, there was a tree shortage last year, supposedly due to some big ice storm. Which I'm not sure I believe, because you know that 90% of the "fresh-cut" trees out there were actually chain-sawed back in August.

Anyhow: The Tree, 2009 version.






This was my weekend: Football, cats and tree:




I am a spinster. Bet you didn't know that. *cough*

Voila:





Note that there is NO tinsel on the bottom two feet of the tree. If you have cats, you know why. Nothin' says "festive" like a cat strolling through the room with a foot-long strand of tinsel hanging out of its butt. Happy holidays!


Oh, and trust me, those curtains are going after the first of the year. Along with those nasty ceiling tiles. Shhhh, don't tell them.

Thinking of warmer days

Nerd Alert! Nerd Alert!

Ah-OOOO-ga! Ah-OOOO-ga!

From the NBC web site - ""The Sing-Off" is a four-night event premiering Monday, December 14 (8-10 p.m. ET) that features a one-of-a-kind battle of voices that continues on December 15 and 16, culminating with a live finale on December 21 (8-10 p.m. ET each night).


The show will feature the country's top eight a cappella groups performing popular songs in a way that viewers never heard them before. There's no lip-synching, back-up bands or safety net. They'll be singing for America's vote with the winner walking away with the ultimate prize -- an Epic Records/Sony Music recording contract."




With the enormous success of "Glee", you had to know this was coming. I am assuming they won't autotune the shit out of the songs like they do on Glee, so I'll be tuning in fer sure! Although how much Nick Lachey I can take is anybody's guess.



(Full disclosure: I was not compensated in any way, shape or form for this plug. Just so you know. Although I'm pretty sure I could've left this out, since I am fairly certain that NBC and the FTC have no idea whatsoever that I exist.)

Memories are Tricky Things

Back when I was 9 or 10, I remember me and my Mom and a couple of my sisters were sitting around talking, and I brought up an occasion from a couple of years before. I had been hospitalized with pneumonia, and the family was going up to the lake for the weekend, and they all stopped by the hospital before they left.


At which point my sisters began laughing hysterically, and informed me that it never happened. And I was all, "It did TOO! It did TOO happen! Mom, remember?"

And my Mom, who I am sure was trying very hard not to laugh, assured me that said incident had never taken place, that the only time I was ever in the hospital was when I was born, that they would certainly not go out of town if I was hospitalized, etc. That I must have dreamed about this at some point, and somehow the dream had become real to me.

And I remember feeling crestfallen and very confused, because I was SO SURE that it had happened.

I wonder if this is how my Mom feels now. She has Alzheimer's, and will come up with the craziest stories, and if we tell her (gently) that what she is saying did not happen, she often replies with, "It did TOO!" She can really get angry, insisting that yes, that man DID stop by to deliver a cake, but she wouldn't sign for it, and now Tib's going to be really mad because the man delivered the cake somewhere else. And she really BELIEVES that this actually happened.

I don't try to reason with her anymore, after it was pointed out to me that trying to reason with someone with Alzheimer's is really, really pointless. Now I just nod my head and sympathize, and if she wants to talk for a while about the man with the cake, that's okay with me.




Alzheimer's sucks.

Today's WTF

Yahoo headline:

"WWII vet returns book he stole from Hitler"


Ummmmm...... returned it how, exactly?

I am DYING right now, people. DYING.

Okay, so there's this blog that I read (no, it's NOT one of the ones on my blogroll), and the blogger just put up a post about picky (adult) eaters at holiday parties and what a pain in the ass they are.

And ALL THESE PEOPLE commented in, like, "I'm not a picky eater but if I eat wheat I WILL DIE so I HAVE to talk to the host about my allergies IN GREAT DETAIL" and "I'm not a picky eater but OH MY GOD no cilantro or corn or watermelon ewwwwwwww" and "I'm not a picky eater but I DO NOT LIKE bananas oh nonononononooooooooo"

and I'm, like, twisting around in my brain, trying not to comment along the lines of,

"Holy shit, people, you are MISSING THE DAMN POINT. The blogger is saying that if you are a picky eater you should either bring your own stuff, shut the fuck up or stay the fuck home. Do you not understand?"

and I didn't do it because that's just being an ass and starting a flame war on someone else's blog, but oh it was KILLING ME to keep my mouth shut so ....... here we are.


Oh hai! How are you today?

..... because this made me burst out loud laughing at my desk:

...... don't call me, PETA, okay? I couldn't help myself.

Duuuuude. DUUUUUUUUDE!

On Mental Floss today, they have a list of seven horrifying aircraft landings.
Check out Number 5:


5. British Airways Flight 5390

Birmingham, England to Malaga, Spain6 crew, 81 passengersJune 10, 1990

The quality of every part of an airplane is crucial to safety. Before flight 5390 took off, the left cockpit windscreen had been replaced by a technician who used the wrong size bolts. At 17,300 feet, the window blew out. Captain Tim Lancaster had just removed his seat belt and had set the plane to autopilot. The sudden loss of pressure sucked Lancaster out the window! His body was outside the plane while his feet became entangled in the controls, which disconnected the autopilot. Flight attendant Nigel Ogden grabbed the captain and tried to pull him back into the plane. Copilot Alistair Atcheson took control of the plane and sent it into a dive to an altitude where the pressure could be stabilized. Chief steward John Heward helped Ogden hold onto the pilot’s legs. They could not pull him in due to the raging wind and cold temperatures at 11,000 feet. The crew, assuming Lancaster was dead, considered letting the pilot’s body go, but decided that was too risky as it could be sucked into an engine or damage a wing. Besides, he was partially blocking the hole where the window once was. Atcheson landed the plane at Southampton, despite the fact that the airport’s runway was shorter than recommended for the BAC 1-11 aircraft. Then the unexpected happened -captain Lancaster came to! He was hospitalized with a broken right arm and wrist and a broken left thumb as well as frostbite and shock. Minor injuries, considering he had ridden on the outside of an airliner at high altitudes for 18 minutes. Lancaster was the only person injured in the incident. He recovered and returned to flying a few months later.

Dude. Duuuuuuude.

Since my sense of humor may be off ......

.......if I put this pic on a Christmas card:





and captioned it "Merry Christmas from the Duggars!", would you get it? Would you think it was funny? Because I'm having a kind of a hard time judging which pics are funny.


Oh, and that reminds me: I'm doing cards again this year! Woot! If you got one last year, you're on my list. If you did NOT get one last year and would like one this year, email me (rockycat24 AT yahoo DOT com) with your name and address (and blog, if you have one), and I'll send you a card! If you DID get one last year and never wish to receive another lame card from me again, email me and I'll pull you off the list. Let me know, mmmmkay?

I promise, they won't ALL be Duggar cards.

Oh, no, not the leg again ......

So, the stores are doing their annual "let's see much money we can get people to spend" thing, and the Sunday papers are thick with flyers. And the one thing all the flyers seem to have in common is the leg lamp.


Come on, you know what I'm talking about. That movie, "A Christmas Story", with the little kid who wants a BB gun for Christmas, and his Dad "wins" the leg lamp"? And it comes in a box marked "Fra-GEE-lay"?


The first time I saw the leg lamp for sale was in a PBS catalog a few years back. I admit, when I first saw it, for about .04 seconds, I was all, like, "OMG! So funny! Must have!"

And then I came to my senses and realized what it would be like to have to look at the damn thing every day.

But I have to wonder, am I missing the boat here? Is the leg lamp the next big thing? Do you have one? Do you know anyone who has one? Is anybody buying these things?

Just wondering.

.... since you asked ......

A little shiver

I didn't know how happy owning a house would make me.

I mean, I rented for my entire adult life, and I didn't really have a problem with it, except for the asshole neighbors and their LOUD NOISE which kind of killed the whole renting-thing and is really the only reason I started looking at houses. To get away from the DAMN NOISE.

I am old.

But anyway, I'm thinking of putting up a tree this weekend, unless I get stuck here at the office, and the thought of decorating MY HOUSE for Christmas has just got me ridiculously excited.

Oh yeah, and I've never done outside lights before, because I lived in apartments, but I swear, I have the strongest frickin' urge to buy a bunch of outside lights and go to town. But you know what's really weird? I want to decorate the back of the house, facing the woods. I am odd.

It's not just decorating for Christmas that's got me pumped. Ever since I moved in, I'll be just sitting there watching TV or reading a book or putting away dishes and the thought flashes through my mind, "this is MY HOUSE", and I swear, I do this little involuntary wriggle of happiness, like a little puppy squirming with joy.

I had no idea how happy this would make me. I swear, I don't know if I've ever been this damn happy in my whole life.

Whoopee!

I am not alone!

Zucullea posted a baby-with-booze photo of her very own!



Anybody else? .........

Eight

Okay, here we go, ANOTHER post about (not) smoking. Feel free to skip.


I got home from work last night and I could smell cigarette smoke. My niece and her boyfriend were over last weekend, and they both smoke, but I thought there was no way that smoke from a few cigarettes could linger that long, especially since I hadn't smelled it in the days between.

Then I went to get out of my "work clothes", and as I pulled my sweater off, I got a great big whiff of smoke.

I was in my boss's office yesterday, taking dictation, and he was smoking. The smell of the cigarettes had gotten into my frickin' clothes, and it didn't smell good. It smelled like I made a great big fat MISTAKE for the past thirty years. Did all my clothes really used to smell like that?! *sigh*


Time for the monthly counts:

Number of cigarettes I would have smoked between April 3 and now, had I not quit then: 7,200.

Amount of money saved: $1,284.00.


I was talking with another one of my nieces at Thanksgiving about quitting. To my surprise, my sister TIB, who quit herself almost four years ago, chimed in. It was surprising because TIB, who actually smoked even more than I did, if that's even possible, hadn't talked about her sudden quit. All I knew was that after being a heavy smoker for years and years, and after many, many attempts at quitting, she went to a hypnotist* and quit. Just like that.


So anyway, she told my niece and I that for the past week and a half, she'd wanted a cigarette in the worst way. She keeps ashtrays out on the back porch for smokers, and she explained how she could just go out there, light up a half-smoked leftover, and nobody would ever know.

And she kept talking. She talked about how if she were ever diagnosed with an incurable disease, and given a limited amount of time to live, she would start smoking again. And she would smoke as much as she wanted, every darn day, for as long as she had left.

"Makes sense to me", I said. Because it did.

And that's why it's so hard to quit. That mindset.

I just hope that four years from now, it's not me still craving a cigarette.

But even if it is, I'm not lighting up. I'm done with that.



I sure hope so, anyway.



On the bright side, I did not smoke on Thanksgiving day, for the first time in thirty years. I did not smoke on my birthday, for the first time in thirty years. I have not smoked a single solitary cigarette, not even a puff, since April 3. Even when those around me are smoking, I am not. I'm a quitter, dammit. Go me.




*or maybe it was an acupuncturist. Or a laser-thingie. I don't remember.

Crazy? Or Sane?

First of all, sorry* about those baby's first alcohol photos. Evidently you guys sided with the half of my family that voted "horrible" and not "hilarious". Whoops.

Here is today's question, prefaced with a little backstory.

I do not do much "seasonal" decorating, except for Christmas, and I haven't even started with the Christmas crap yet, other than almost killing myself getting the boxes out of the attic. Somebody should have rethought those ten-foot pull-down attic stairs, is all I'm sayin'. Oh, and they should have rethought installing a furnace three times the size necessary for the house. Which I found out on Thanksgiving eve at seven p.m., when the damn furnace croaked. Thanks, previous owner!

Ahem. Anyhow, I don't do a lot of "autumn" decorating. I've got a bunch of Indian corn that I hang on the door every year, and some godawful fake fall leaves that I drape on the porch rail, and a corny cardboard sign with pilgrims on it that says "Happy Thanksgiving", and that's about it. You know those scarecrow-things, those ones that are, like, four feet tall, with stakes on the bottom so you can stick 'em in the ground, those ones that they sell at the Dollar General?

Yeah, I don't have any of those, because I think they're frankly a little odd. Like sticking giant dolls in your yard or something.** But yesterday I had to run to the grocery store at lunchtime, and evidently this store really, really wanted to get rid of their remaining stock of scarecrows-on-a-stick, because they had them piled up by the front door on sale for seventy cents each.

And I was like, "Holy shit! Seventy cents each! I should buy some!" And then I was like, "But I don't even like those scarecrows! They're creepy!" and then I was all, "but they're SEVENTY CENTS EACH! I could give them to my neighbor!***"

I did not buy any scarecrows-on-sticks. And by the time I came back out of the store, someone with a scarecrow fetish had scarfed up all the stock.

So here's my question: Would you have bought the seventy-cent scarecrows, had you been me? You make the call!







*yeah, not really.

**no, not "or something". It is exactly like sticking giant dolls in your yard.

***my darling neighbor, whom I love, who decorates extensively for every holiday.