Didn't sell :(

"I Love My Country Home" Pillow/Deathtrap!

"I Love My Country Home"
Pillow-Type Decorative Implement/Apparent Deathtrap

Yeah, I live out in the country. Yeah, we used to have chickens, though we owned Rhode Island Reds and not this generic artist's representation of what appears to be a Barred Plymouth. And yeah, I do rather like my house, despite its many flaws, although I don't think it's quite strong enough to call "love". A family member, say—yes, then it would be love, and quite frankly, I would abandon my beloved country home and live with them under a bridge if the situation warranted. While I enjoy living here, I would not say that about my house. Still, people use "love" to mean lesser sorts of love—like, say, chocolate—so I guess I COULD say I "love" my country home in the sense that, if I DIDN'T "love" it, I would probably move. I mean, duh.

Vintage Montgomery Ward Hairdryer!

(My suspicion--or perhaps my INTUITION?--is that this little number will prove to be the Schick Razor of 2006. Just a feeling. Prove me wrong!)

I was cleaning house the other day (this whole anecdote, unfortunately, kinda demonstrates just how often I clean house) when I came across this leatherette pouch. We've moved it around from house to house through the years. I always thought it was some grooming utensil my husband kept but when I finally questioned him he didn't know—he thought it was mine. Looking at it I had no idea what in heck 'n' tarnation this thing was, but since it had a power cord I decided to follow my impulse to plug it in and see if the house blows up.

"How to Catch and Tame a Husband" book


Ever see one of those things that you just HAVE to buy? And afterwards, you don't know why? This is one of those things. I think I meant to use it as a gift for a female friend, but I realize now that--probably due to gifts like this one--I really don't have any friends. So I offer it to you, my many anonymous friends on Ebay. We can pretend we are friends and meet for coffee and cheesecake and dish about the other people in our lives. It will be fun. And then I will give you this and you will take it the wrong way and I'll be like, "What? It was a joke!" and you will tell others all about how Cruel and Insensitive I am. Thanks a lot. Who needs friends like you, anyway? Geez. Pfft.

Schick Intuition Razor Free Sample!

Yes, my friends, Christmas magic has sunk to an all new low with this truly craptacular gift. I believe Santa himself gave me this. In my family, a gift from Santa can mean one of three things: a tiny stocking stuffer; a gift you give yourself but you don't want the family to know (not the case here I assure you); or a gift so putridly bad you are ashamed to attach your name to it for fear of reprisals. And believe me, my family WILL retaliate if you give them the slightest opportunity.


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