Sold

I'm OK with kitsch for the home.  I really am.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that no home is complete without kitsch.   


But there's kitsch, and then there's this:  

Pigs on oxy.  Not even Roseanne would have had this pair in her home.   Which I guess is why they're now living at the Salvation Army.  But the fact that they are now at the Salvation Army means that at some point, they lived in a home.  And the owner would have been forced to take oxy every day just to stand the sight of them. -> 

The Best of the Worst

Let me just preface this by saying I hated all these pictures.  The lines were soft in every one of them, and the weird colors Hipstamatic offers while in some cases looks good, in this case washed out the the original colors thereby diluting the point of my recording them. I eventually gave up and went with what I had, which I realized wasn't much at all upon shuffling through them at home (Thus adding fuel to the Geek's fire mantra of "You need a REAL camera") Those are actually acrylic finger nails, if you can't tell. 

So: Nail "art".  I'm sure you've seen it: the lovely French manicure with the Frankenstein twist that's been all the rage the past few years.  And people take it further, much further than just the tips, unfortunately. Honest to God, I've saw a woman once who had a rhinestone embedded in her thumbnails.  No.  I'm not kidding. 

Some women call this look "fun".  I call it "Tacky" (yes, that capital "T" was intentional) and am of the firm opinion that one should be sporting such fingernails in only certain, (read: quite limited) situations. Said situations being if you're 1) a drag queen , 2) channeling Dolly Parton on Halloween or 3) under the age of 12.  There's no excuse for such display any other time. Ever.  ->

Monday is Junk Mail Day

Is there no way to rotate these pictures?  Seriously? What the hell?  Why can't Blogger be more like Flickr?  You can certainly rotate your pictures on THAT site.  Clearly it's superior.  

The more I look at this, the more I pretty much hate it.  I was trying to capture the essence of consumerism and personal psychology via snail mail. 

Say you: Say what?  

Say me:  Oh come on!  You know how it is: getting the mail every day is a little treat.  It's like a pull at the slot machine of life.  Most of the time it's worthless: bills and junk. But every so often....a check! A postcard! A wedding invitation!  I win!  

Today?  I lost all my emotional quarters.  I had 10 separate pieces of mail.  One bill, one checking account statement and the rest was junk.  

And it wasn't even photogenic.  ->