Thursday, February 28, 2013

Oh, Pat Robertson.

Hello, readers!  I apologize for my absence the past week; I was out of town for a while, and due to computer troubles and life's distractions, my queued blog posts ran out before I could stock up again.

No thrift store kitsch today, but I offer you a terror of another sort:

Full article here.

Now, I firmly believe that people should have the right to believe what they want to believe, and (as you can probably tell from my previous posts) I have pretty strong personal beliefs, myself.  But I'm amused -- and kind of horrified -- by the concept of, "Eh, there might be demons, there might not, so go ahead and banish them anyway just in case."

So, how about it? Has anyone encountered a used demon at a thrift store?  Now that WOULD be a terror.

Monday, February 11, 2013

All Hail The Kween

Anyone who walks through a shopping mall is probably familiar with those kiosks that sell customized belt buckles spelling out your name (or other words, usually along the lines of "PIMP" or "SEXY") in shiny metallic letters.  They're a less-subtle cousin to Italian charms and airbrushed license plates and all the other varieties of kitschy personalized junk, and they're fairly harmless in most cases.

But this one made me blink:

If I tried to wear a belt buckle this size, it would effectively serve as body armor for my lower abdomen. It would probably also weigh down my pants and make me look like I had joined an entirely different fashion trend.

Now, there are a few different meanings associated with this word, some of which can be found here if you're not familiar with them.  Some of them are unflattering and wouldn't necessarily be something I'd want to wear emblazoned on my clothing.  On the other hand, this could actually be someone's name -- in which case having it on a belt buckle is understandable (though giving it to a thrift store for resale is kind of odd, since there isn't likely to be anyone else with that unusual name in the immediate area).  Or perhaps someone was just trying to make a statement with an unconventional spelling and had no deeper meaning in mind.

But I think it was just the tragic result of the mall kiosk running out of Qs, and hoping no one would notice.