Marathon in a Fanny Pack

You guys. YOU GUYS! I went to 25 freakin’ yardsales yesterday! It was the best. …At least I think it was; I’ll let you know when I’ve worked up the energy to crawl back out of bed. (Honey, when you read this post, could you please bring me some cereal?)

yardsale-mapSelections from the three (?!?!) maps they gave us for yesterday’s sales.
Crazy-man scrawls are mine.

So it turns out yesterday was my little town’s community-wide yardsale. Yardsales, yardsales as far as the eye could see! (Well, more or less. We actually have burned-out factories as far as the eye can see, but beyond those? Yardsales. Free rusty nail with every purchase.) You could tell it was supposed to be a big deal, because they had way more signs up than they did for, say, last week’s budget referendum. Pretty sure the yardsales had a better turnout, too, which is weird, because they both primarily attract old people and angry bloggers.

They were selling maps for the sales at one of the local diners, rather than just, you know, actually telling us where any of the sales were. I can kinda get why they’d do thatafter all, when you’re selling a product, it makes sense to make it as annoying as possible for anyone to buy said product. It’s the same reason why most grocery stores these days charge an entry fee and nobody really knows where Disney World is.

The first few sales I went to hadn’t started setting up yetwhich is typical of southern Connecticut, where the “start time” is more of an optimistic suggestion than anything you’d want to followbut once they kicked off, they kicked it like they were a horse and you were accidentally standing behind it. (…Yeah, metaphors were never really my strong point. It’s like yardsales are the ocean, and I’m a person who’s really bad at metaphors.)

First up:

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A Summer Punderland

Exploring the deer-infested wilds of New Jersey.

I was back in New Jersey this weekend to celebrate a few more family birthdays, and while our yardsale trip was cut short because 1) the sales weren’t biting much this morning, and 2) none of us were able to get out of bed before 9:30, we still managed to do our fair share of picking through other people’s garbage.

Some sales were a bit more garbagey than others.

Here are some of the highlights:

And you thought driving while texting was bad. A coffee maker for your car! Haven’t you ever wanted to brew some Joe on the Go?

…Man, that would’ve been a MUCH better slogan than the one they went with: “Just plug into your LIGHTER SOCKET!!!!!” And hey, if you decided to pick that up…

You could always grab some “genuine” second-hand coffee filters from 1984 to go with it.

At the same sale: Continue reading

Awww Yeah, it’s a Tag Sale!

Now THAT’s how you advertise your sale.

Despite going to over a dozen yardsales this Saturday, I didn’t end up with all that much loot. My actual purchases included:

I’m actually kind of in love with the car. One of my favorite parts of the Christmas season (to this day, mind) is piling into the car to hunt down a Christmas tree—not in a lot, because my wife and I aren’t weenies, but in an actual farm—and then chopping it down myself with a friggin’ AXE, just like my forefathers used to do it.
That’s not the best part, though; the best part is drinking free hot cocoa while someone else spends the next twenty minutes struggling to tie the thing to the roof-rack.

re: Pear of Sheep

Sorry, I know I promised over at that other website that the next three posts here would all be about videogames…but I came across a phenomenon today that just has to be documented—something so disturbing yet, in a way, enlightening that it’s kind of a tragedy that there aren’t books on the subject already.

Are you ready for this?

The “pear of sheep” statue is not an isolated incident.

I was searching for “pear of sheep” on Google to try to get an idea of my new blog’s search ranking, and I came across dozens of items with the same theme. Dozens. I’m serious! The “pear of sheep” statue isn’t just one item some crazy person convinced a gullible manufacturer to mass-produce; it’s a veritable motif! My life is now dedicated to finding out why. Continue reading