Jan. 29th, 2006

scary_manilow: (knife)
Finally, a day off with absolutely NOTHING to do. After a solid week of working double shifts and bouncing between two jobs, I was able to indulge in a little free time... which, of course, can only mean two things: DRINKING and THRIFTING. [livejournal.com profile] secret_malady and I loaded up the wagon and headed south, since there aren't any REAL thrift shops left in Lawrence... Long story short, there's a lot more HOT JUNK ACTION going on in Baldwin and Ottawa than I ever would have imagined.

The Goodwill in Ottawa was predictably useless ($75 for a plywood shelf? My ass!!!), but we were able to mine pure gold from every other stop along our journey. In addition to our usual haul of b-videos and handmade knick-knacks, Ms. Malady was able to secure an antique "moving waterfall" picture, the kind that produces an artificial ripple effect when you switch on the built-in light:

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(This isn't the same picture, I just needed an example)

There's apparently some kind of flaw in the design, however, because the waterfall appears to be flowing UPWARDS, as if the earth suddenly switched polarities and sent everything flying into orbit. TOTAL ANARCHY!

Under a pile of rubble in the back of a juvie-rehab thrift in Baldwin, I came across an old t-shirt bearing the logo of my favorite place in the universe: THE BOULEVARD DRIVE-IN!I couldn't fucking believe my luck... and it was just my size! Seeing as how I never find trashy shirts that fit me anymore, I was more than happy to add this to my cart.

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I was pretty content in my belief that I had reached my peak for the day. I thought to myself, "Surely, I'm not going to find anything cooler than the BOULEVARD DRIVE-IN shirt. I should just march my happy ass down to the bar RIGHT NOW and start getting hammered." Of course, that was before I stumbled across THIS, this holy-fucking grail of incredibly strange records:

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Ms. Malady and I decided to celebrate our good luck by putting on our best duds and stepping out for the evening. We've taken a solemn vow to ALWAYS look our finest when embarking on an all-night booze odyssey, a decision which has suddenly made everyone else in town look... well, LESS THAN. Having already worn my classic leopard print shirt/ satin tux jacket combo this month, I decided to experiment with a pinstripe vest/ open collar shirt look, Nick Cave-style... I've gotta say, if the rest of the so-called Fashionistas in Lawrence don't start sporting vests this season, then they obviously weren't paying attention to how fucking fabulous I looked. And Ms. Malady? Stunning as always in a black cocktail dress with contrasting red necklace, complete with a new fall in her hair that she pinched from a local beauty shop. Is shoplifting immoral? Let's take a cue from Mr. Waters, kids: CRIME is FASHION. And really, what's MORE criminal: petty theft in the name of style, or going out looking like every other drab, tasteless indie-rock schmuck in town? I rest my case.

Anyway, we were on a mission to check out a Kansas City band called IN THE PINES, who are supposedly the hottest shit around... I guess the operative word in that sentence must be "shit," because they bored the two of us right back to the other side of the bar, where we spent the entire rest of the evening pounding shots with the boss and trying to figure out if we could get in on the obvious lines of coke everyone was blowing downstairs. We couldn't. I guess it goes to show that being the best looking people in town isn't ALL bells and whistles-- sometimes, the world is so intimidated by our beauty, they push us away without ever really getting to know us. And that's a motherfucking SHAME!

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