I know, maybe not every one feels this way. But if you walked early in the AM you might agree with me. The time is so serene. Nothing has quite happened yet that could ruin a day. It is early morn and you are walking down the street with that special brand of stillness only the beginning of the day can bring. The air is fresh, the sky is just waking up, the birds are singing. And then, right there in front of you, on the curb…
the ultimate display of refuse.
Today did not disappoint. The half mannequin would have been enough. But the way that clementine crate was hanging off of her? That? That was true art.
Would it amuse you to know that as I was crouching on his lawn to take this shot, tethered to the new puppy, the owner of this house pulled into his driveway?
Thought so.
The key to these situations is to never turn around and have eye contact.
An early morning walker and lover of garbage day, I take notice of what people throw away. It seems toilets are all the rage in the ‘hood.
First I came across this one at the curb, which BTW has been there since January 10th. It has that lovely retro Harvest Gold look to it. They tried to cleverly camouflage it as regular garbage by stuffing some boxes in it and leaving it at the curb.
The garbage men are not buying it.
This second one is sort of leaning causally at the back of the house just chillin’ with the old screens and stuff. You know, sort of making a permanent home for itself as a lawn ornament of sorts. No, I do not walk into people’s backyards to take pictures. What? You think I am a stalker or something? This yard butts up against an open area on my walk. I love that Regency Blue styling.
How do I know so much about vintage toilet colors? You know, it’s sort of a hobby. No seriously, I found them here which led me to here.
THIS is a damn creepy stress ball. And the way it is packaged with just the face sticking out of a hole like that just adds to its degree of creepiness.
I took this picture for my friend Michelle Lamar, because we are constantly in competition for photos of the bizarre. She is the one who turned me on to tampon crafts way back when. She is my idol of tackiness.
So this guy? What makes him so creepy? Is it the pink lipstick? The bushy eyebrows? Oh right, the fact that someone would design something like this as a desk accessory could be it!
So he represents who? The quintessential asshole boss? Your perverted Uncle Ernie? The pedophile next door? Why, I ask you, will we get pleasure in squishing his seemingly benign, bald little head?
Jana and I went into the drug store yesterday to pick up some tampax. (Now there is a show-stopping opening line if I ever wrote one.) As we walked down the aisle I heard her famous brand of “ARE you kidding me?!” I turned around to see not one, but two NFL free standing displays…
blocking the tampons and feminine hygiene products.
As a marketer and brand-focused professional I tried to see what the idea was behind this. I have come up with a few thoughts and will outline them here, with a poll at the end to get your input.
Put the NFL stuff in front of the tampons because:
1. while a woman is bleeding she feels the need to get a little gift for her guy to distract him.
2. there are women who are football fans and they may want some of these for themselves.
3. stockperson was stoned and placed the displays there as a joke.
4. stock person just put them randomly in an aisle with no thought to surrounding merchandise.
5. there is a level of discomfort with feminine hygiene products and they wanted to hide them.
6. foreshadowing: Tampax will be coming out with NFL branded tampons (Team Tampax?) and this is a pre-launch teaser.
Well, well, well… it would appear that what we have here is s family that has a 2 for one thing going on. Could they actually be selling both their baby and their toddler at one sale.
I would suppose every family reaches that moment in time when the kids have gotten on their last nerve and the only solution they can think of is to… sell them?
Yikes.
Well, at least they are getting rid of the computers and the household items, too. It looks like it is probably one of those purging type sales. And if you take the 2 kids you will probably want the other stuff to take care of them.
Once again, I stumble upon the absurd. This time I had my girls with me – Jana and Natasha. They pointed her out and we could not believe our luck. Sitting innocently in the brand new 16 Handles in town, enjoying a little froyo delight, this woman comes walking in with 3 middle school boys. To be perfectly honest, we were first distracted by her definitely, but not intentionally, dyed magenta hair – this was a redhead gone bad situation. Then we were aghast at the size of the frozen yogurt with many toppings that she had chosen. I am not sure I could eat that much on a dare.
As she was perusing the extensive toppings bar the girls saw it; that unbelievable embroidered declaration on her left arm : The Bitch is Back.
Now let’s think about this. As always, I wonder who designs these things in hopes that someone will buy them. Then I want to know, did she buy this for herself as a warning to her spouse/family or was this a holiday gift from her husband who was merely stating the obvious? Yet this chick wore it proudly. And on a pink hoodie, no less.
Insult to injury.
I am guessing by the varied clientele moving through this 16 Handles I am going to spend some serious time there with a camera. And yes, my friends, this one gets the MFTA approval – the last one of 2011.
Looking forward to another year of bringing you the most ridiculous things that life has to offer. May you all be safe tonight and remember, if the bitch is back, wear it.
1,000. This is my 1,000th post. That’s just crazy. I don’t believe there are many things I could point to in my life that I can say I have done 1,000 of. I love that this falls right before the new year; what a perfect time to be reflective.
Perhaps as a mom, 1,000 sleepless hours from infancy through young adulthood. Or maybe as a graphic designer, 1,000 corrections made to jobs that were once titled ‘final’. Or maybe the amount of times Gary told me I better write my 1,000th post about him (does this count?)
Reaching this milestone makes me look back at how blogging has changed my life. It has helped me learn the social media space from the inside out. It has helped me to always make sure I see the humor in every day (except Tuesday) and share it. It has enhanced my delight with witnessing amusing things in daily life and making sure to photograph as many as possible.
But most of all it is the people I have met, and the ones that I already knew who keep reading, sending me their stories and absurdity alerts that make me realize what a fortunate time we live in; where one sarcastic, sort of off beat, magnet for the absurd woman can connect with like-minded people and feel as if she has come home.
Thank you all for reading. Here’s to the next 1,000.
I have written – with disgust–about kids on leashes and dogs in strollers. The former spawned a call from Dr. Phil to try to get me to come on the show and duke it out with the leash supporting moms of America.
I am always astonished at the lack of separation out there between parenting kids and owning pets. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my pets. Losing Mel was one of the hardest things in my life, and now having Iko and nurturing a young puppy is a whole new set of emotions. But I never once confused them for my kids. Or felt I was parenting them. Not to say putting my toddlers in a crate to discipline them wouldn’t have come in handy, but a dog is a dog. A kid is a kid. And the idea of taking the methods used in raising one and projecting it on the other is concerning.
Enter the clip-on dog high chair. I believe when my kids were little we used to call these Sassy Seats (stupid name!). Now, in my home, we spend an enormous amount of time getting our dogs NOT to eat at the table. No begging. No jumping. Certainly no taking the food off the table or the counters. That would be specifically because…
THEY ARE DOGS!
But it seems that the makers or buyers of this ridiculous item don’t agree with the theory that dogs belong on the floor when they eat. Again, because…
THEY ARE DOGS!
Note there are more than one of these on the market indicating there is demand or people are trying to create one. Crazy stuff. And if you ask me all these dogs look a little out of their minds and certainly over-indulged.
The last one is really scary. Is she eating flan with a straw and a paw candle with a side of bisc(uit)otti?
My favorite search result is the April Fools video from Ikea. I just love this guy:
So, show of hands. Are you comfortable with your dog at the table. (warning: those who say yes, we will not be eating together any time soon)
I know, only I could run across a french bulldog with a pleather Biker Dude jacket in Home Depot.
On a Monday night.
In the suburbs.
Because, my friends, I attract this sort of thing. And I fully accept my lot in life and whole-heartedly embrace the responsibility to share this with those of you who are less fortunate in the ways of crazy occurrence in daily living.
Or just don’t carry a camera. Or a smartphone. Or – we can’t rule out – don’t care enough to document (shame on the last category)
Sunday I came across a ridiculous man with a dog in a stroller in the Bloomingdales shoe department. The next day I meet a foreigner with a biker bulldog in Home Depot. That makes sense, right? I am usually a firm believer that pets do not belong in clothing. They already have a coat, if you put one over it they might get overheated. Except in the case of my dear dog friend Penny, she just gets a little chilly and needs something to warm her up in her old age.
But since this coat was so spectacular I loosened my rule and started a conversation with the guy:
Me: OMG can I take a picture of your dog?
Guy: Um, I guess so (heavy slavic accent)
Me: He seems to like wearing it.
Guy: Yes, he does.
Me: Where did you get such a thing?
Guy: (with a much thicker accent than I thought he had at first.) Wal-Mart.
And there you have it kids. Another day in the life.
i could cry but i don't have time 