Thrift Shirts.....in My Pants

Sundays in the fall rule. Why?

I like football.

I like it more when my fantasy football team is doing well (which it is at the moment).

Sundays are good because they give me a chance to reflect on the week ahead as well as a fond look back at last week.

And Friday marked an impromptu trip to the thrift store.

I had intended the trip to be a "T-Shirts Only" visit, but as usual, the minor deities of thrift had other plans in store for me.

I knew as soon as I saw this my mission of shirts only was in jeopardy.
One "Racin' Bubba" I can fathom. The fact there there are a series of them, however, was a little too much for my pre-lunch mind to wrap itself around.

This looks exactly like president Bush to me. Only minus the diploma. And the "#1 Graduate" thing, of course.

This was a mirror in to the past. Or was it the future? I forget. And I wasn't quite prepared to be sucked in to Narnia. I had a conference call that day that I couldn't miss.

You know, I was wondering just where I could find an entire set of ugly green dishes. Now I know.

I had one of these. No batteries. Just xylophone metal plates that get hit with a striker as you roll the thing over your shag carpet.

This is a sprinkler head. I'm not sure I want to know where the water actually comes out.

The only thing I can really say after seeing this is quite simply that the executives at the toy companies have some good drugs. The best drugs in fact. That's the only explanation as to why they made toys like this.

Awwww. A snuggly bear....with hiking boots. WTF?

This game sounds really cool just by the description.

...until you actually see a picture of it.

There's a good reason why Radio Shack stopped making board games.

See....this is what happens when toy executives take their character names from adult cinema. It's the drugs, I tell ya, it's gotta be the drugs.

This looked somewhat cool (it must've been the fact that I hadn't eaten lunch yet).

Upon turning the box, though, I questioned the naming scheme.

And now we finally get to the shirts. Now, there is no mystery or question as to my geek status. And I've grown to accept it, even embrace it.

There is a certain "game" if you will, whereby you add the words "in my pants" to certain lines in classic geek flicks (the most notable being "Star Wars"...."The force is strong...in my pants" That kind of thing). So, I couldn't help but think of that as I was looking at these t-shirts.

If you're wondering why some of these actually made the post, just tack on a "in my pants" to the main phrase on the shirt (I'll make it easy by putting "I.M.P." where needed).

Now the thought of a beach party, especially Monte's, in my pants wasn't really that appealing. This was more of a homage to my dad who looked like this in the 70's and with whom I was discussing Tequila just the other week.

Well, I was rootin' for Rachel. But now? Screw 'er. Who wants a t-shirt?

I don't normally censor the photos, but if you can piece together what is on the "Show Your" sign, you'll understand why I did. Now I'm not saying I believe it, but it is a little easier to see why people say God was just cleaning house.

I know this is supposed to be Goofy as Frankenstein. But to me it looks like Goofy is stoned (well, more stoned than normal).



"I.M.P." (You mean music doesn't go round your pants?)


"I.M.P." (every man's wish)

"I.M.P." (many men's reality)

"I.M.P." (afterall, nobody wants tobacco in their pants)


This wasn't an "I.M.P." moment. This was just funny to me.


Now, these next two weren't "I.M.P." shirts, but it would take a serious pair of cajones "I.M.P." for me to wear either of these.

"I.M.P." ExtraOrdinary in my pants. Indeed.

Now this last one was a dilemna for me. On the one hand you have the tragedy of 9/11. And I didn't want to belittle that. On the other hand you have the comedy gold of a phrase like
"America will always remember the twins....in my pants." In the end, I think laughter is healing. And while I will probably go to hell for it, this made me laugh.

OK. Since I'm gonna be going to hell, I probably should buy some snacks for the trip. Now I know I made fun of these chips on the last post, but apparently what I didn't know what that these were a staple in the Detroit area. And since I went to Detroit one time (for a concert, in a blinding rain storm with broken windshield wipers), I thought I'd give them a shot.

So I got a bag of "Ketchup" and "Hot." And to be fair. That's pretty much what they tasted like. I gotta go dig out my copy of "8 Mile" now and look for the bags of Uncle Ray's. A chip is nothing without street cred.

Pump in Style? Um. Not having functioning mammories, this is sheer speculation. But I'm not sure how mechanically peforming that particular act could be seen as stylish.

This hat was signed by somebody.

After we got back from the thrift store, Wayne demonstrated the proper way to handle a Cleveland Steamer.

Alright, alright. Calm down. It's just a protein bar. That just happens to look like a turd. Mmm Mmm Good!


And with that I'm gonna head back upstairs to watch the rest of the game.

Happy Sunday.

And don't forget, this Wednesday is half price day at the thrift store. I'll be charging up the batteries for some extra special pix.

Lastly, before I head out, I'd like to report that the creepy-eyed turtle was no longer in the store. The can of Creme of Mushroom soup had also been sold. But I'm sure it was just a coincedence.


Way to Go Nancy!!!!

My wife kicks a$$. Seriously she does.

The latest in the reasons why she rules is as follows:

She finished her first 1/2 Marathon this morning.

Don't believe me? Check it out for yourself.

We were in a really bad position (couldn't swindle a press pass in time), but in a good enough position to cheer her on and let her know how proud we were of her!!!

The Columbus Marathon is a pretty big deal (one of the qualifiers for the Boston Marathon as well as the Olympic trials) and this year is the first year they offered a 1/2 marathon. Out of 7500 runners and walkers, over 3000 of them were there for the 1/2 marathon.

But the only one we were there for was Nancy.

My wife rules!

I love you honey!

*UPDATE* On the off chance that this video doesn't embed properly (all told it should run about a minute or so for the full clip), you can find it here.


No Thrift, Just Annoying Friday Rants

OK. I understand that Sen. Mark Foley (R-FL)(ret) is kind of a sleazeball. A perv to be sure. And may or may not be a criminal (really depends on what the emails and IMs said, doesn't it?). At the very least there's a strong possibility that he's a sexual predator.

But apparently the news community wants us to also know that in the midst of all of this deviant behavior, that Mr. Foley is also Gay (with a capital Homo).

Why? Good question.

I'm not sure that him being gay has anything to do with him being a creepy perv. And yet, it's in almost every single article that's out there about this. Foley himself used this as an excuse (along with "I was really drunk at the time" and "I had 493 free minutes left from that AOL CD they keep sending me"). Whatever, dude.

The politicians have already gone full on into "your fault" mode. Dudes....seriously. Who gives a f**k why someone didn't do anything sooner? You can't change that. Deal with it and move on. Figure out why a deviant sexual predator made it into congress in the first place. And for crapsakes, leave his sexual orientation out of it.

If he's gay. Good for him. If he's not, good for him. Who cares? It's not like gay people are the only ones with a corner on the perversion industry. If that were the case, porn sites would look a lot prettier than they do.

The guy's a slime bag. That's it. Plain and simple. Doesn't matter which side of the pink triangle you stand on, a creep's a creep.

I'm just glad the media is focusing on what's really important in the issue.

As usual.

Main Entry: jour·nal·ism
Pronunciation: 'j&r-n&-"li-z&m
Function: noun

1 a : the collection and editing of news for presentation through the media b : the public press c : an academic study concerned with the collection and editing of news or the management of a news medium

2 a : writing designed for publication in a newspaper or magazine b : writing characterized by a direct presentation of facts or description of events without an attempt at interpretation c : writing designed to appeal to current popular taste or public interest

I blame O.J. for the current state of our media.
High speed chase my ass.


A Long Thrift Ago....

This last weekend we had the whole clan in from Indiana for the boy's birthday celebration (his birthday was actually Weds, but we had the Bowl-a-Rama/Thriftaganza over the weekend).

Since this isn't the High Plains Birthday Blog, we'll get right to it.

Something's wrong here. Can you guess what?

I was wrong. There is one remaining Members Only jacket in the free world.

Git R Done!

Now I remember why I kept getting my ass kicked in the 80's. Damn you jean jackets!!!

I felt like I should have bought this one.

After all, it did have my name on it.

This hat, however, did not.

Could he be carrying chips in that bag?

Apparently, the three wisemen were separated by a little pot. Or is it a cup?

What house does this belong in? A blue cat with a Wolfman Jack beard? Maybe Wolfman Jack's house. But I think that's about it.

From the creepy eyed porcelain knick knack department...

What the hell is this? I can't even think of a joke for this it's so jacked up.

This came in a black and white box that just says "STUFF."

OK, I'm not even sure this would make sense to me if I were high.

Not even the flowery runner can change the fact that this is crap.

Back to the Creepy Eyed thing...

Old school. This was not digital....the numbers actually flipped.

This clock radio is so Old School that the radio is AM.

For when the pills aren't cutting is anymore.

OK. This one has the double whammy. The creepy eyes and the waxy body.

These are the Doc Martens that Kim always finds that are never the right size. Seriously. Every time she visits and we hit the store, she finds them. And they never fit.

So many places to go with this. But I'll take the geek road and say that this was the WORST add-on software to an operating system since Microsoft Bob.

Do kids really need a lunchbox for their Barney tapes?

And can you beleive I passed on this?

This was funny to me. Because...well, I've never had warm wipes.

Word. Old Skool.

Hey, is that a Taylor Made? Nope. It's a Joe Cool.

Git R Done!

Nash's killer find. A Motocross Jersey AND leather pants!!

But first, I'd like to take a moment to compliment on your choice of fine footwear.

Nah. It's too easy.

A kid's guide to stalking.

Jen holds up the world's tackiest skirt.

This is where Halloween costumes go to suck.

Tommy holds up Wicket the Ewok. And, do you really have to ask? Of COURSE it came home with me.

Dylan demonstrates the proper mis-use of a thrift store wheelchair.

Alec demonstrates the proper method for soloing on the Barbie guitar.

I wuv you enough to give you a stupid illiterate bear.

Sweeeet. Wouldn't fit in the back of the Taurus, though.

Somewhere in the 70's a den is missing its cornerpiece. And damn, I really wanted to take this home. I almost had Nancy sold on it, until I started talking about recarpeting the basement in Goldenrod Shag.

I had one of these. It held chalk. That's it. It was a chalkboard with a handle. And there were little magnetic numbers and letters in it, too. But mostly chalk. With a handle.

Surprisingly, the thing that threw me off about this was not the flavoring, but the fact that I don't think I would buy Uncle Ray's chips (I'm OK with the ketchup thing, though).

My papaw had a collection of these. There's no joke here. It was just cool to see them again.

WTF? Seriously. WTF?

This Jack in the Box is singlehandedly responsible for some messed up kids.

This game ruled.

How could you go wrong? Luke Skywalker...Ginger Lynn (the pr0n chick)...Gimley....the crazy dude from Clockwork Orange? In space!!

Ok...what 8MM gem could I pick up today?
Apparently the new Judas Priest video. Pass.

De Boobzes go in De Bra. Duh.

This cost a fortune back in the day (the "day" being 1998). Now it's just sad. Even more sad is the fact that I spent 5 minutes trying to justify buying it. Couldn't do it.

Bangers and Mash? Then you need a proper football hat.

Nash-O Suaveeeee.

And on the way out, I bought my little lady a little bling bling.
Nothing's too good for my woman.

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