Moving: Thrift Stores

I haven't posted in a grip.  Mostly this is because I was too busy driving around the Pacific northwest getting high, drinking, and winning foosball tournaments.

**If you're creeping around my blog because I applied for a job at your company, that last statement is false - I didn't win one fucking foosball game the whole road trip.

In other news, I just moved to California.  It's been good.  My husband and I have spent about half of our lives these last couple weeks at thrift stores. Thrift stores are fucking wacky, man.

(Yes, they are also awesome.  They provide some cool shit at reasonable prices.  But they are mostly weird.)  

• I like finding cool old dressers - I don't like making Josh lift them up so I can do a urine smell test.  
• I could do without the various assortment of old, creepy-ass baby dolls.  Their vacant stares wigged me out when I was a kid and they wig me out now. 
• I don't like asking myself if I'm being judgmental when I walk by the undergarments rack.
• I'm not a huge fan of walking by the pet supplies section and seeing what looks like carcasses left in the cages. 
• The demon eyes I get when I look at something that's already "been claimed" by the guy with the tight sweats creeps me the fuck out. 
• It kind of weirds me out when Josh and I are accosted in the parking lot by a guy who asks if we know about his new promotion.  Like at work?? No, but congrats! Oh, not your promotion at work but your promotion on stungun-flashlight combos?!  Sure we'd like a demonstration!  What the fuuuuuuck.
• Jesus is unofficially the thrift store mascot.  He is everywhere. And no, I don't mean that he's "everywhere" like all up in our souls and shit - I mean that he's over there, on the cross, pasted on a nice assortment of sea shells. 
• Do knick-knacks procreate? They better, or else it means that people actually fucking make and buy somber looking clay frogs and creepy-ass wooden bunnies.  
• I am cool with the lady in her PJs who always asks me if the pan she's looking at looks like a legit non-stick.

After purchasing a lot of cool shit at thrift stores I've now convinced myself that we have bedbugs.

The above being said, places like Pier 1 Imports can suck it.  No I don't want to buy a wine rack for $95! I can get one that smells like body odor at the thrift store for $0.75! Go fuck yourself you pretentious whore of a store.