Today the Mrs, Swedish Falcon, Professor S the Magnificent, and I went to some Goodwill stores. While out I ran into the most amazing statue ever. It is called “The Toadster”. Behold it in all its glory:
I did not purchase it because it does not match my decor or serve any real purpose. It is a toad with slices of toast sticking out of it’s back, hence the brilliant name, “The Toadster” which was actually written on the bottom, I did not make that name up unfortunately.
Later the Mrs. and I went to the local Wal-Mart and while we were standing in line to checkout, where we happened to pick the lane with the slowest cashier imaginable. The Mrs. was suddenly approached by the woman in line in front of us who happened to be a psychic and told us her entire life story. It was a very one sided conversation and we feigned interest. She went on to talk about her psychic visions and her alcoholic son who keeps getting into car wrecks even though she predicts them ahead of time and warns him about it. Why do all Wal-Mart psychics have Ted Nugent haircuts and wear tacky turquoise and purple blouses with tons of gaudy jewelry. It must enhance their psychic powers.
This weekend the Mrs. and I are going down to the trashiest most toxic waste ridden place in Ohio which happens to be my hometown to celebrate the Squirrel Queen’s birthday. Then the Mrs., Squirrel Queen, and my dad, Sleeping Jesus, are going down to West Virginia to bet on the ponies and maybe win free t-shirts.