Things I Don't Buy At Thrift Stores
shiftythrifting:

I want the sick satisfaction of watching my mailman fist a duck each day.

…

shiftythrifting:

I want the sick satisfaction of watching my mailman fist a duck each day.

Once upon a time I worked in a marionette theater. I performed puppet shows from a 5ft bridge, wiggling dollies for kids with two other performers to pre-recorded soundtracks. Since the puppets were manipulated at the ends of 5ft of string, no matter how awesome we were at our jobs (and we were awesome, believedat), occasionally they would get tangled together. So anyway once upon a time we were performing “Hansel and Gretel,” a show that contains a scene where a Witch offers Hansel some blueberries that he gobbles up with loud, wet, smacking NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM sound effects. Unfortunately, this once, Hansel got tangled in the Witch’s skirt, and as the performer working Hansel struggled to untangle him and the soundtrack played on unstoppably, the puppets’ gyrations beneath the Witch’s skirt coupled with the mouth-smacking sound effects made for the kind of show that the room full of young children watching shouldn’t have been able to access until they understood what the Internet was really for.

I bring up this moment because it was ALMOST as uncomfortable as the one I’m having right now, looking at this hot mess of porcelain. 

fuquerie:

weirdthrift:

Grandma be careful!!!

I’m pretty sure this was one of the Grimm’s fables. ”Grandma and the Taint Sewing.”

I can’t bear being empty-headed!

I can’t bear being empty-headed!

Sometimes handmade, cast-off crap can be so very beautiful.

Sometimes handmade, cast-off crap can be so very beautiful.

Itty bitty kitty couch

Itty bitty kitty couch

Hot cow, rowr!

Hot cow, rowr!

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stageAnd then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and furySignifying nothing.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

Huh. Lord Space Doodie is a movie star.

Huh. Lord Space Doodie is a movie star.

Hello. I am Lord Space Doodie.

Hello. I am Lord Space Doodie.

Love is… ditching elaborately framed amateur drawings at the thrift store.

Love is… ditching elaborately framed amateur drawings at the thrift store.