old bronze Confusious statue – $80
I have an old bronze Chinese statue for sale for $80.00 or best offer won’t last long very heavy for it’s size.
Confusious say, “If you give a man a fish, he has a bongo. If you teach a man to curtsey, he will never play rugby again.”
Thanks, Steve!
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In the last picture, he seems quite evil, so my guess is he is Confucious’ secret evil brother.
That head-shape is a bit reminiscent of Admiral Ackbar. Confucious + Adm. Ackbar = Confusious?
“Confusious say, To start the journey of a thousand miles, don’t go that way! It’s a trap! Or maybe not. Uh, I don’t know. Coffee slice?”
I was thinking – ‘so, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Vader and Yoda were trapped in a cabin one long, lonely weekend… nine months later, Confusious was born, to the great surprise of all three.’
Sounds like the winning idea for the next big fanfic.
Pretty sure it already exists.
:shudders:
Rule 34. Look it up.
I will not and you can’t make me!
:sticks out tongue:
In fact, I’m adding “Vader/Yoda fanfic” to my Do Not Google list.
Oddly enough… makes perfect sense.
Ghostie, if you are making a text list of such things (like the pingback file in Hosts),
please include the term “slashfic” too . . .
Slashfic is on the list, right after “zombie porn”.
But how do zombies have sex? Wouldn’t the important bits keep falling off?
I don’t know and I don’t want to know.
: tops frosty beverage off with brain bleach:
I thought it looked a little like the head shape of an Alien. Any moment a second little mouth will pop out.
I was thinking the exact same thing, Lara.
Confucius say, Man who look like lobster probably know when it’s a trap.
Confucious say: Man who wear robe, feels breezy.
I was thinking the last one looked more like one of the Old Ones. Confucius Cthulhu?
“Be not ashamed of mistakes, make them sacrifices so with strange aeons even death may die.”
Ah…Confusious, the god of all things bronze and cheezy.
I thought that was George Hamilton! The things you learn on YSAC!
I think he is the devil of all things bronze and cheezy
I almost miss the guessing game of where this comment will land.
Onyx is the new bronze. Once you go black…
… you create a bronze statue of the moment.
…you go to the doctor and have that nasty thang checked out.
Corner! After you take this call from Al Sharpton on line one.
I had the doctor check it out. Turns out it was just a licorice whip.
In my defense, it gets dark in those movie theaters…
*heading to corner*
Al Sharpton, okay. Jess Jackson scares me.
*makes note in FM’s file*
But why? Jess Jackson was a pioneer of low-cost wines!! Plus, he worked for a time as a ‘soda jerk’. Now, I don’t know what that is, but it sure sounds fun!
Ooh, is it because he’s recently deceased? And you’re scared he’ll come back as a zomb
It’s interesting that the OBO wont last long and is very heavy for its size. I wonder what it is. I am going to guess that it is a very juicy watermelon. Any other guesses?
Buddha Pinata?
Whoa, black Buddha, scam-a-man
Whoa, black Buddha, scam-a-man
Damn thing looks black, scam-a-man
It’s an evil knick-knack, scam-a-man
I can cut you some slack, scam-a-man
I said oh, black Buddha, scam-a-man
Whoa, black Buddha, scam-a-man
Alternatively…
He ain’t heavy, he’s my Buddha.
Grampdaddy, Buddha Pinata is IF’s Shonen Knife/Los Lobos crossover cover band, I’m sure of it.
We do some other songs outside those catalogs though. You should hear Buddha Pinata do Hakuna Matada.
Considering some of today’s discussion on the comment thread, I think I’d like to hear them do “Rock Lobster,” too.
The Ostrimu (BBUH) does guest vocals for that number. He does a dead-on Fred Schneider.
Slice him thin and fry him: Buddha Frittata.
Ok, wow, Lola–Los Lobos should so lay down some Shonen Knife tracks (although I’m not sure either party would be quite the same, after).
GD, “fritatta” is an omelet; perhaps you meant “fritas” or “fritos” (Spanish making gender distinctions of what one slices and pan fries to golden-brown deliciousness)?
Thanks, Cap’n – explains why I failed German 4 years in high school and 2 years in college.
It reminds me a bit of Cthulhu. Confucius say, “That is not dead which can eternal lie. / And with strange aeons even death may die.”
You sound like the Capn, Dave.
*scrambles about the intertubes for that “text to James Earl Jones’ voice” site*
Wait, what did I miss? There isn’t just “the ferret” any more, there’s a whole Ferret Tribe? Wow! How’d that happen? (Are ferrets like rabbits or something?)
It’s my fault, Lola. I thought DAFT was better than DATF. I suggested the new name. It’s still under consideration, I believe.
Did I fall asleep at some pivotal commentary? Or is this an “Ah Ha!” moment?
No, really. Here’s the link to the conversation and the transformation:
http://www.yousuckatcraigslist.com/?p=6672#comment-108633
Yup, I blinked. Thanks for the enlightenment, dear Windy.
*proffers a gourmet treat stick for the birdies*
Adore this too much for clicks (plus I keep getting the “Cheatin’ uh?” popup).
I don’t know, doesn’t look like much of an action figure to me. No posable joints, no wonder weapons, no secret identities, and I bet he doesn’t transform into a car or truck or anything. Plus, it has been taken out of the box. EVERYBODY knows these things lose value when you take them out of the box.
If it was the Malibu Confucious with the stiletto heels, I might consider it.
I had Malibu Confucius when I was a little monkey. He came with a Dream Temple and his little cousin Yansheng Skipper. Ah, the fun I had playing with them!
I had Disco Confucious; it came with platform sandals and prayer beads made out of cocaine.
Mine came with the pink Dream Chariot.
And some sort of male eunuch doll named Kenfusious.
Transformer, Jah Rastafari in disguise.
*throws many doors at Hammy, careful to not actually hit the cute puppy*
Would a rastafari Transformer be a bong that transforms into a hash pipe?
Why does Confusious make me think of Wharf?:
http://therealrevo.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Warf.jpg
What’s with the big-ass head (or big ass-head)?
(or big ass-head)
Gee FM, you promised you wouldn’t call me that in public….
I know, I thought I had successfully dealt with my outbursts during therapy. Maybe I need a therapy booster. Or more meds.
Or, perhaps, just Lola’s flask.
Lola, please pass the Monkey a bananananananana daquiri.
Ring ring ring ring bananaflask!
Confusious – The Next Generation?
So, Yoda, Obi Wan Kenobi and Darth Sidius walk into a gene recombinator…
Can I stop you if I know this one?
Yes, but I’ll pout. Look at this face. Do you want to see this face pout? Really, it’s kind of freaky.
Hmmm. Yeah, frankly I most emphatically do not want to see that.
Moving along…
Mad, you should be here more often. Have you been shown the way to Gravitar? 8)
It’s just a jump to the left…
WR,
Yeah, I know about it. The quilt pattern just kind of makes me…comfy and warm. 😉 Thank you kindly, though, for mentioning it. 🙂
Plus, with work (mini vacation right now) it is impossible to be here at all during the day since work blocks anything with the work “Craigslist” in it. Joy killing wankers.
Lara,
Thank you for putting that brain worm into my mind on this oh so lovely Wednesday.
*mad wanders off with visions of Riff-Raff, Magenta and Columbia in his brain*
Oh, I used to work there! You too? I’m sorry.
In any case, join us evenings and weekends and whenever you can. 🙂
I do what I can and I can Can-can.
I think my company’s sole function in life is to remove all possible joy from the workplace. I keep waiting for them to notice and make me remove my buds for my personal 7,000 song radio station I carry around with me. Make’s me miss the NY area. At least everyone there is an a** and we all understood each other in that regards. 🙂
Actually, I’m in NY right now, and pleased to report that not everyone is an a** at my current place of employ* … though the NY branch of Joy Killing Wankers, LLP is right down the street (four years later and I’m still relieved to have gotten away). My condolences that you appear to be working at their branch in [location] (or is that Ish?).
*my boss alone deserves a BBUH for (a) being human and (b) treating his supervisees as human
Sorry Lola, either I phrased that wrong, or it is a very inside joke amongst myself and my other ex-NY coworkers. Either way is very possible with my mental dyslexia (which would make a great band name, IMO).
The joke is that we from NY are all a**es, we know it, the country knows it and we don’t care. We’re proud of where we’re from and that we can cram over 10 million people in one area without killing 50k every day. Or, as I like to say, where else can you see a city street, cars barely moving, and a pedestrian walks between cars, bangs on the hood of the car he just cut off and states “Hey, I’m walking’ here!”. Gotta love NY attitude.
On a lighter note, my home here is an entirely separate organization of joy killing wankers (another great band name), with no known ties to other organization of the same or similar names. I do think they all go to the same school of “How to remove all joy from the workplace” seminar though. 😉
Hey — I flunked out of that seminar once.
So it’s not random reply placement day anymore. It was kind of fun for a change, similar to have a no-edit day.
[o/t corey]
The US has now a fifty year history of promoting people by way of longevity rather than any other explicit trait.
As a result, we have entire generations of people who have never known any other system than “managing”–the basics, the fundamentals, the precepts, of “leadership” are and undiscovered country to them. Even if tripped over, as incomprehensible as ancient Nepalese script.
We humans, silly ex prairie monkeys we are, we retain that paleolithic reflex to abhor the unknown, the strange, the alien. There’s fascinating reading on whether that’s based in recognizing bad grains or in stealthy predators.
Sadly, with no better examples in the common population, there is a certain expectation to have to work for petty martinets–even when knowing that, becoming a petty martinet is often just a reaction to being placed in a position of authority for which one is not competent.
This is an area that Dr Denning never quite found a solution for. Being a ‘manager’ rather than a ‘leader’ is often like hazing. Even knowing better, being the “er” is the reward for having been the “ee” for so long a time. Petty, foolish, adolescent; all without question. Dr Denning famously said “No one, barring some twisted examples, comes to work thinking ‘I’m going to do a bad job today.’ ” Yet, we are submerged in “bosses” who presume that to be exactly the case. They then set the bar to the point that they get what they expect.
I’m spoiled. I know it. I was inculcated, I was raised, in a culture of meritocracy. Even if with limits–we all have feet of clay–to the point there’s a phrase “We salute the rank; not necessarily who’s wearing it.” But, one advantage to wearing one’s resume over one’s left pocket is that it can be a bit more obvious whether that rank has been pinned to a turnip (even a naught-shaped one) or not.
[/trying to see the good in a low day corey]
It’s sad that the best offer won’t last very long. They really don’t make them like they used to.
Let’s be honest though, nobody made offers like Don Corleone.
Yeah… for this statue, he’ll make you an offer you can’t confuse.
Whenever somebody jokes that they will make me an offer I can’t refuse I immediately think they are threatening me with a decapitated horse head in my bed in the morning. This doesn’t increase my desire to buy whatever it is they are selling. Although I can think of someone I could regift that horse head to…early in the morning on their door step with the newspaper in its mouth.
Storytime!!!
Taco, you quit offering the other kids. It’s most unseemly young man!
In 2006 a very drunk woman drove through my front yard one night, totaling my car (THREE MORE PAYMENTS!!!!!) as she sat minding her own business in my driveway.
Consequently, we had to purchase another car.
It was July.
July in Texas.
Hot doesn’t even begin to describe, and when you add the fact that we where schlepping around every car dealership in our area – there are quite a few, actually – and didn’t want to be buying a car at all (THREE…THREE…PAYMENTS…SIGH….), we were simply Not.In.The.Mood
So given our reluctance, and the personality of every smarmy used car salesman on the planet – really, where do they get these guys, some genetic lab somewhere? – we really didn’t want to be shopping for a car. About 2 minutes into most spiels and we were already headed back to our other vehicle to hit the next lot.
Until we came to one dealership and met the nicest, most gentlemanly, older salesman I’ve ever met. He was soft-spoken, polite, and really just hung back and let us look.
We zeroed in on an Impala and asked him if we could test drive it.
That’s when he went from kindly gentleman to Guido, the Used Car Guy.
He grabbed the keys, opened the four doors and said, “Look, youse could fit tree or four wise guys in da back seat alone!”
I stifled a giggle as he opened the trunk and continued, “In heah, deres room for what…five, six bodies? Fugheddaboudit!”
I stood back, literally speechless, as he walked around the car gesturing wildly and doing his best East-Texas-meets-NYC accent.
“Great car, great car…”
Umm…okay, but the way he was acting I really wasn’t sure I wanted to test drive. However, burly hubby was along so we did.
When we got back to the lot and told him we really liked the car, he morphed right back into kindly gentleman as he did up the paperwork.
When we were (finally) done with all the signing and check-writing, he handed me the keys.
“Thank you.” I said.
He winked at me and smiled as he whispered, “Fuhgeddaboudit.”
Strangest car-buying experience. Ever.
/end storytime
CJ: Maybe he was in Witness Protection, but got a little bored once in a while and pretended he was back in “the life”?
I dunno, Lola, but that Texas meets NYC accent was really wrong..on so many levels.
CJ – are you missing something?
Edit – now the rest of you is there, part of you must have stepped out for lunch.
Artsy…my parts shift a lot any more. It’s called “aging”. Sometimes I find things in the next room, damned if I can remember how they go there or why I was going there in the first place.
*toddles off muttering about…something…can’t remember what now…*
Confusious say, “Don’t ask me, I can’t figure it out either.”
Hey, Taco… I bet whoever bought that possessed cat painting from TacoFather at the garage sale would love to add this creepy little bugger to his collection. I get the strong impression that if someone brought this statue home, it would come to life with glowing red eyes and wreck havoc around the knick-knack cabinet.
Knick-knack, paddy-whack?
All that’s left are bones.
This old man came slashing home.
“Possessed Cat Painting” for band name of the day!
With their new hit single, “OoooOOOoooo Meow.”
I kind of wish I could see this possessed cat painting. I bought an oil painting of Beaker at a garage sale. The lady didn’t even know who Beaker is. Her son painted it. He’s pretty good at painting muppets, he really captured the fear in Beaker’s eyes.
O-
M-
G.
I would sell my soul for an oil painting of Beaker.
What about a print of a painting of Beaker?
http://www.deviantart.com/print/17242701/?itemids=198
squeee!
SisLyle
You just gave me the worst sort of
Christopher Moore “Dirty Job” * moment of all of these less-good items using CL to collect their malevolence into one location to bring an End to Everything.
Consider, the haunted hawk, the possessed doll, this figurine, the cat painting, et al, all collecting, migrating to some one location–Egads! the haunted Basement . . .
________
*Note, the html link compiler in the comment editor appends a single quote if you cut-n-paste links.
Makes me think of the library at Unseen University.
I’m thinking this is the result of Alien vs. Predator. The dreds just haven’t grown out yet. It’s a wee alien, after all.
AWWW, don’t you just love it when they’re little and they attach themselves to John Hurt’s face and blow up his stomach?
*worf …… / geek
e~
Lola’s in the box, with Zombie Anwar. Should be fun. 8)
Wow, thanks Windrose!
If I need protection during the punch, I’ll just hide behind this sarcophagus I brought back. 8)
Does it have rhinestones? That would be awesome!!
Of course! What else do you expect from a showgirl mummy?
For a brief moment, I read that as “esophagus” and thought, “man, Lola gets to go on the most awesome safaris.”
I left Sven in there from yesterday, Lola. You can always hide behind him.
I’m going to cover myself in Sven. Seems like a good idea in general.
Man, Sven has all the fun…
*wanders morosely over to a chew toy and mauls it*
I think the Luxor Larceny stole the show in that comment. That’s my band name for the day.
*pokes head out of corner*
Clarification time: After re-reading my response to Minefield’s “once you go black…” post, mine sounds purty, well, rude. When I read his post my mind went to “if it goes black, maybe it’s time to consult a physician”. And after I snark-i-fied it, well, I don’t look so nice. I can’t believe it but I have actually shocked myself by my behavior.
not.a.niceMonkey
I’m returning to the corner, where I will dig a hole and find the corner down there. And dig some more. Do they have banana-flavored coffee slices in Corner Hell?
Nah. That wasn’t any worse than most of the snark we post here on a mild day. Why, there was that time with Taco and a herd of dik-diks trapped in a room with a tranny lounge singer and they —
…but that’s another story.
Actually, I’m enjoying being in Corner-Underneath-Corner-Hell. Who knew they have biscuits down here? And I’m getting an awesome tan.
Plus my next door neighbor is Bin Laden and he has a cool gaming system set-up. And his mom is HOT!!!
Plus, if you get bored of GTA, he’s like the second best hide-and-go-seek player EVAR!
(First is Jesus, based on how many people used to show up at my door on Saturday mornings asking if I’d found him.)
Stop digging when you reach my bunker and you can come in for some banana-nut coffee slices.
Oh geez, next thing I know someone will set standards for this place and the snark will shrivel up and die!
Whew, I’m relieved, thought I made a faux paw*. Was turning out to be a bad day, I just discovered someone stole my lunch out of the community fridge in the cafeteria here for the 3rd time since Christmas. Is there any such thing as an alarm or security device that, when moved, screams out, “STEAL IT NOW, MOTHER F#$@ER!!!!!”
*Yeah, I know, I spelled it wrong on purpose. WANNA MAKE SOMETHING OF IT????????????
Oh, my. I need a drink.
*passes flask*
@ Lola: Bless you. Confusious say friends with flasks recieve larger mansions in the afterlife.
On the day you crack, FM, submit your lunch-room vigilante note writing here.
Edit: Derp derp, I can spell…
Edit X2: GAHAFOALADLKDFHAOSDOASDLKK!!! Third times a charm…
@Sister: There won’t be anything “passive-aggressive” about my revenge. I’m having fantasies of Ex-Lax brownies with saltpeter topped with frosting with little sprinkles in the frosting (sprinkles=contributions from the cats’ litter boxes). Give them a little screaming diarrhea.
Storytime!!
Yes, kiddies it’s bonus day at storytime! Woot!
When I worked in a cubicle farm I found much fodder for hilarity.
Case in point:
A mentally unbalance a/p clerk sent out a mass e-mail one day, the text of which read:
SOMEONE STOLE, YES STOLD, MY WALLET FROM OUT OF MY PURSE! HOW COULD YOU? YOU ARE MY FRIENDS AND I TRUST ALL OF YOU!!!
I DEMAND THAT WHO EVER DID THE DEED RETURN MY WALLET RIGHT AWAY. JUST LEAVE IT ON THE BREAKROOM TABLE (mind you the breakroom was in an entirely different part of the building and was shared with other companies, but let’s not let logic interrupt a perfectly good meltdown) AND I WILL GO IN THEIR TO FIND IT IN 30 MINUTES!!
YOU HAVE 30 MINUTES, OR ELSE!!!!!!!
About an hour later, we get another e-mail:
WELL, I GUESS NO ONE IS WILLING TO FESS UP. I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DISAPPOINTED IN ALL OF YOU.
I was rather enjoying the hilarity and disappointed she didn’t follow up further.
However, the next morning when I came in, our crazy woman had sent yet another mass e-mail:
I am sooooo sorry for my behavior yesterday! I acted like a child! Please forgive me, my doctor recently adjusted my medication and I’m still getting used to the increased dosage. As my way of apology, I’ve brought a huge chocolate cake for everyone. Please join me in the breakroom for a slice at our morning break.
It was signed Hugs, CrazyWoman.
I don’t know if anyone showed up for cake, but as for me I decided voluminous vomiting or explosive excrement were not on my a) calendar or b) bucket list so I passed.
I also have no idea if her wallet ever returned home, but judging by her behavior I’m guessing it escaped with its life.
“voluminous vomiting or explosive excrement”
Thanks CJ: What you said. Exactly.
My turn for a story!
I’ve had house cats for decades, in between weekly deep cleaning on the boxes I do maintenance on them: I’ll clean out the, well, “clumps”. After I married Hubby Monkey I put a garbage bag of said clumps on the porch, planning on taking them to the car to dispose of them on my next trip out.
Before I could Hubby went out the front door and came in seconds later wanting to know why was there chocolate candy with sprinkles in a bag on the porch? I asked him if he ate any of the “candy” before I answered him. To those of you not familiar with cat boxes, cat turds in a litter box look just like little tubes of chocolate covered in white and grey sprinkles.
Enjoy that lunch/afternoon snack, depending on what time zone you are in.
FM, you made me smile.
1. Because no one, ever, not once, has mistaken my current cat’s bowel output for anything but what it is. (Former 20# manx, ‘output’ more like a Peke than Persian).
2. For remembering a workplace that had a number of people who thought the company provided lunch, just not a very professional one. Which one learned when they put the tupperware back for the “lunch faeries” to refill with notes on using better bread, or less hot sauce, or did they not know that their nephew’s sisters, neighbor’s boy’s best friend has a brazilnut allergy and you hafta say iffin theres any in the waldorf salad . . .
3. In case of passive-aggressive vindictiveness/belligerency in the workplace, one has to be careful about “dosing” workplace foods, lest one have to eat one’s own spoils [NPI]. No, if one paper-bag’s the lunch, then using a second bag with someone else’s name upon it works much better. This is also handy if one is being surveiled as a target of mischief.
4. sigh.
BWAHAHAHA!
I have three cats and am intimately familiar with Kitty Roca.
If you wanted to be extra-special vindictive, make a kitty box cake and garnish with the real thing.
http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/kitty-litter-cake/Detail.aspx
Ah, kitty roca. Thank you so much Ghostie for a name for it. Awesome.
I learned a new word today!
Addendum: Re the fake but real kitty litter cake – urp!
Ghostie: One of my co-workers make that cake for another of my co-workers. She put it in a kennel and told birthday co-worker there was a kennel that needed cleaning.
As a matter of fact… I have some mercury switches, small speakers and PCBs. All we’d need is one of those recording hallmark cards that you can record your own phrase onto, and put it all together.
Hmmm… wanders off muttering
I think it’s time to Spank the Monkey.
And how come I’m in the corner and you’re not?
Can’t squeeze all these breasts (shoulder-knees) into a small corner. So sorry!
I’d be willing to test that theory. For science. Since I’m already here and all.
I thought they made CL close that section . . .
OLD BRONZE MAN: Hello, ladies. Look at your ancient philospher, now back to me, now back at your A.P., now back to me.
Sadly, he isn’t me, but for $80, you could have me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a DIY glass-bottom boat, sinking, sinking, with the heavy bronze. (Told you you wouldn’t last long — you thought I meant the offer?)
Anything is possible when your man is bronze and dresses like a lady.
It’s so nice to have clear sinuses in order to enjoy this wonderful spring day. Thanks, Dr. Innana!
Ah, so glad to be of service!
*ringy tink, ringy tink*
Hop Sing on line 1 for you, Innana. Ah, so…:)
Wondered if you’d notice that!!
(I have to finish talking with Hey Boy and Kato before taking more calls)
The Old Spice parody post from Innana gets my vote for the box! Well played!
Perhaps I should now rescind the Spanking suggestion…
I is so confusious.
Is statchue Namekian?
Love the man. Here’s a couple quotes that seem to fit:
Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it.
– Confucius
Laughing at our mistakes can lengthen our own life. Laughing at someone else’s can shorten it.
– Not.A.Confucius
Man who break wind in church sit in own pew.
– Confuse-us
And this classic: Man who run naked through air port going to Bangkok.
I have my own corner in the Command Center ™, thanks.
Windy: The Best One Yet.
I’m not brown nosing. Really.
Confusious is the patron saint of Contemporiania, if I’m not mistaken. This doesn’t look like a very good representation of him… where’s the furniture he’s supposed to be blessing?
Someone took it for free.
Someone bought it for free.
There. I fixed it for you. :3
EDIT: Wow. That seal-cat face looks really stupid in this font.
I never would have guessed that Confucious worked for IKEA. He also writes instructions in his spare time.
1) Dump all parts and pieces out on floor.
2) Identify parts and pieces.
3) “Those who try to assemble furniture from directions are screwed.”
I once tried to set up a fax machine, yes I’m that old, using directions translated from Chinese to Mongolian to Aramaic to Burmese and then to Spanglish.
I literally laughed till I couldn’t function.
And, no, we didn’t get the fax machine set up that day.
I had a sports watch like that.
I had a cheap little MP3 player like that. The instructions boiled down to “Press all the buttons until something happens.”
Press ALL the buttons!!!!!!!!!
(What, me, stir crazy? Nope.)
Should that not read:
1) Dûmp ålle parte ik pîecjs oøn fluor.
2) Jîdëntifîe parte and pîcjs ålle.
3) Ênjoî yøor fîne furnîtur! Bûy ålle stûûf fon ûs !
Ok, this is clearly a small world.
My dad had bought this same statue–if in mahogany– in either Hong Kong or Singapore (he never remembered which) on his first cruise on his first destroyer.
So, I grew up with this figurine about the house.
Eventually having a younger brother, said figurine had been been dropped/knocked over/used for blunt object trauma at least once in my life.
Often, after such an event, one or both of my parents could be heard to remark that “Well, it could have been one of the bronzed ones…”
Not that I (heaven forfend) would be skeptical of decor items on f/b . . .
Not one that might have been bought for HK$8 and sold in a garage sale for 80¢US . . .
Was it heavy for its size? And did it last long?
That’s what she said.
I’M ALREADY IN THE CORNER, DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!
*dig dig dig expletive dig dig dig fling some poo dig dig*
I apologize, folks. My ill temper and irritability is due to some ass hat stealing my lunch today. Time for a snack.
Monkey want a ‘nana? Or a ‘nana daiquiri?
Meh. Just hand me a bottle.
In,
Heavy as a block of asian hardwood with some bits whittled away.
Duration is up past a half-century so far (it’s in the guest room at my folks’ house; said room having a Chinese theme).
“Whittled bits” now has my vote for best band name.
Why would I spend $80 on a statue that won’t last long? I mean, disposable items are necessarily cheap because they want you to use it once and then throw it out and buy another one.
The photo could be only a portion of the actual item for sale; when the statue gets dirty you just throw it away and another one pops up. Like a Pez dispenser, but with statues.
Ok, found this elsewhere:
Ah, evolution, where a predator will form, eventually, anywhere prey can be found . . .
Aww. So do you mean that boat that I bought for cheap probably won’t float? Or that the rocket shoes might not get me to the moon? Or that the carseat might not really be PINK?
Aww, shucks, and I spent my last Crisco on those things.
Here, I have some vintage cereals you can buy for free, AR.
I have an inflatable penguin-bear that might cheer you up.
Oh my, what a long Wednesday this has been. Everyone be sure to come back for Sure Happy It’s Thursday! Lola, my dear, Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Shandong Province