The Potty-Training Mystery Puzzle!

Hey, and speaking of toilets

“Potty training.” Get it?! I thought this was going to be one of those fun mystery puzzles—”The Monster Who Did This Terrible Thing to My Babies,” perhaps—but no, it’s just a regular puzzle with a whole bunch of sad babies on it.

Here’s a bonus puzzle from the same thrift store, on the same visit…

Man, who’s getting rid of all their baby puzzles???

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[NSFW] People Are People


Okay, phew. It’s “Mom, Don’t Read This!” Week here at Yardaling to Adventure, where I’m sharing all the great finds I’ve been holding off on posting, because I didn’t want my mom to see me writing about butts and boobs. (So don’t tell her, or else I might lose my allowance.) As This American Life might say, these posts will acknowledge the existence of sex, so read at your own peril.

First up! We’re starting off with this week’s tamest selection: a puzzle that’s just floor-to-ceiling doodles of naked people. Misshapen lumpy bits, scribbled-in pubes and all. Continue reading

Par for the Death!

murder-of-course“Take a swing at solving the crime!” challenges the back of the box.

Has anyone ever played one of these things? I keep finding them at yard sales, and while they break one of the Cardinal Rules“Never Buy a Used Puzzle (Because No F***ing Way Does it Have All the Pieces”)1I gotta say I’d like to take a SWING at that. (“SWING”?? Right?? Because GOLF?!)

I mean, a “mystery jigsaw thriller”? I can’t wrap my brain around what any of those words mean in that combination, but MAN it sounds like something I’d be into.

1. Other Cardinal Rules include “If You Have to Ask, it Costs Too Much” and “Make Sure Before You Stop it’s Not Just Someone Doing Laundry.”2

2. This has actually happened to me and my mom before.3

3. We also almost stopped at someone’s wedding.

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Generic Jigsaw Puzzle

Stock opening line. Fun story about an awkward yardsale encounter. (Maybe with old people?) Bad pun; weird segue into…



Filler text, filler text, filler text. More puns (if possible).




Closing line expressing regret that I didn’t open the stupid box to see what’s inside.

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She Was Eaten to DEATH

*ahem* Let’s get doewn to business; we have a lot of madeerial to cover. (…I’m so sorry. Those are some of my worst puns yet. My Aunt Ler would be so ashamed.)

Today’s adventure started off with a “blue light”—which is, as described earlier, a term my mom coined for yardsales that sneak up on you, like that axe murderer that’s creeping up behind you right now. Although as it turned out, I did see this one listed on Craigslist the night before. The post just had one critical flaw:

They didn’t include an address. Which—as you might imagine—is a bit of a problem when you’re trying to visit someone’s house. My GPS is an older model; it doesn’t understand how to get me from Spring Street to “near Route 67, past where the old supermarket used to be.”

So how did I know it was the same sale? They mentioned in the post that they had a bunch of gravestones for sale, and, well…

They sure did!

My favorite, by far: “Here lies BETH. She was eaten to DEATH.” (Although “SALLY BASS got overcome by GAS” comes in at a close second.)

A whopping $50 for the whole lot though; they must’ve read my post about ridiculous Connecticut Prices, and took it as a challenge. “Oh, he thinks $4 for a scratched up CD is bad? Just wait until I charge half a hundo for these cardboard things I painted!”

Although that said, for only $5 I could’ve taken home this fantastic lobster rug:

…but it’s a good thing I didn’t get my claws into that; I ended up buying another awesome rug at a different sale, and I think if I brought them both home my wife might’ve boiled me alive. (Like a lobster.)

Later in the day, I came across… Continue reading

Get In Your Pumpkin!

When yardsaling, common sense dictates that you find the best stuff the earlier you go, at the first yardsales you visit. Your competition—aka, your fellow salers—haven’t had a chance to pick through everything yet; the “good stuff” should still be there, waiting for you to hold it up and stand around awkwardly while you wait for someone to tell you how much it costs. (Or is that just me?)

…Theoretically. The problem, however, is that this is a false thing. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been finding that the first few sales of the day are always—ALWAYS—a total bust. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe the good stuff hasn’t been taken out of the attic yet, or maybe the people who start their sales during the wee hours only do so because the only things they need to set up are their three rugs.

Either way, for the first several yardsales today, the most exciting thing I found was this:

Now, I’ll grant you—angelic biker Taz is a pretty rad (and also very specific) collectible. Also confusing; as a rule, I tend to avoid anything that makes me ask “What EXACTLY is going on with that man’s torso?” (No, seriously—what the hell? Are those Taz-shaped pantaloons? Is he standing inside an albino pumpkin? Is…is that what heaven is like?) But it’s not what I drag myself out of bed at…8:30 for. Continue reading