The “FILL A BAG OF CRAP FOR $1” church sale strikes again!! Not pictured: the back of the tag, which tells me that this t-shirt is a custom print job. Meaning that I might have the only one in the world. Sorry, everyone!! NO SAD POTATO SHIRTS FOR YOU!!!
(oh gosh, I hope that’s a potato. Or an amoeba? I just hope it’s not something racist. You have to tell me if this shirt’s racist before I wear it in public.)
Here’s a couple more tees I picked up from the same sale: Continue reading
I have a feeling that the box is just made up to look retro, but man, I really want to believe that this thing has been sitting in some person’s basement, unopened, since a very disappointing Christmas in 1967.
…With the potatos inside.
(You’re gonna need a bigger potato bag.)
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This just in folks, we’re getting reports that a lone voice in northern Ohio has just shattered the world’s record for loudest sound ever in recorded history. That voice—belonging to a man, aged 29, with (it has to be said) a magnificent beard—was allegedly visiting a local yardsale when he exclaimed, shattering all glass windows within a three-mile radius:
We take you now live to the scene, where everyone is deaf.
Reporter: “HUH? HUH? HUH?!”
Thanks, Al. The previous “world’s loudest sound” record was also held by this man, reportedly established when he shouted “I WANT THAT PIE DISH” and imploded a mom-and-pop thrift store. More on this story at the top of the hour, unless some celebrity has a baby or something.
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As I’m learning, there are two kinds of estate sales: those, like the one I went to a couple of weeks ago, where everything’s set up more or less like a typical yardsale, with items priced and arranged tastefully, and professional sellers buzzing about just delighted with the prospect of helping you buy their things.
Then, there’s ones like the one I went to today. Look at your home, right now. Notice how you have everything arranged. Notice how everything’s set up. Very personal. Very cozy. That’s how this place was set up—which is to say, it wasn’t set up at all. Nothing was priced; nothing was arranged neatly on tables. It was as if the owners had gone on vacation, and in the meantime the most enterprising robbers of all time took it over and tried to sell everything. It made me feel weird and creepy.
I didn’t buy anything, although I did find this—on a table they set up in the front yard, to display the most choice merchandise:
Yardsaling to Adventure! 