White Trash food, canning, pies, beets, turkey, bread pudding, asparagus, potlucks, sweet potatoes, rhubarb, spinach, Easter bunnies, jellybeans, ice cream, apricots, and dog food served as paté
3:58 p.m., Feb. 19
The world must be alerted to the presence of this tremendously sweet guitar:
They didn't make a lot of them, and they didn't make them for long, but damn those 'Hawk guitars sounded good, sportin' the P90s and whatnot. Worth every penny, I assure you. What's probably not worth $900 but maybe somebody thought it might have been?
Hey-o! Welcome back to '95! Let's all storm a Mickey D's and try to get the new ones before everyone else! For a compelling read, try the Beanie Bay wiki, which makes a great effort at breaking down the logic of creating and maintaining a fad. Good stuff. Still, I think I'm going to give the day's Runner-Up award to:
It's the perfect touch for my waiting room project! Ought to be something for everyone in such a magnificent stack of forlorn periodicals. Can't wait to put on some elevator music and rifle through a two year old GQ. Even so, my pick for the objectively selected best for sale ad on craigslist today has to be:
I'm giving this guy lots and lots of credit for posing (whether truthfully or not, it doesn't matter) this for sale toilet as an attempt to make recompense for losing his home in a craigslist based loan scam. Definitely something you don't see every day. Plus, it gels so nicely with yesterday's scammerific blog post. Maybe I'll throw both the usual No-Prize and the Special Scammer No-Prize out there for him--it's the least I can do, considering the loss of his home, and whatnot.
I've got to pick a little fight with the Kohler corporation, however, over naming a model of toilet the "Memoir." Totally unacceptable. Toilets are the last thing in the world to which anyone would want to attach any permanent memories. In fact, any lasting memories forged in the vicinity of the toilet are probably highly unpleasant ones involving illness or excessive drinking. Every memory I have of clinging to the edge of the bowl in order to avoid being swept away by a relentless tide of nausea and lost in the spinning of the world is one that I would really prefer not to keep. Kohler, however, has different ideas.
I like to think of memory as a sort of indexed, cross-referenced, nodal system.1 Highly classified, memories flow into and out of one another in a techno-organic fashion which bridges the gap between nature and artifice. Various themes act as the aforementioned nodes, serving as weird sorts of jumping-off points between memories, linking different memories together in new and interesting ways. In big picture terms, it's probably best described as a sort of net or chain-link fence. There's a pathway between every other point, though it's seldom a straight or easy to follow trail.
Now, imagine that the Kohler corporation had their way and every memory was rooted in toilet imagery. Every memory you had of a carnival was only accessible through the lens of reeking porta-potties. Any recollection of your old homes would always precede from the lavatory outwards. Each thought of past camping trips could only begin while hunkering down behind a tree. Remembering a good meal could only happen if you had visited the loo at the restaurant (and good luck savoring past delicacies from that standpoint!). Kohler corporation, while I applaud the ambition of your megalomaniacal efforts to re-shape the entire world of consumer spending around your strangely expen$ive crappers, I am afraid that I must defy you in creating this toilet-centric worldview. I just can't in good conscience let you re-shape the world's perception of itself from the vantage point of the Porcelain Altar, regardless of how many times I may or may not have worshipped thereupon!
1. This is based entirely on my own experience of my own memories. Things rae probably different from the brain's point of view. But, hey, who cares, really?