Here's the haul returned to my office. It totaled about 13 dollars including tax. That's ten bucks as planned, plus two for the grab bags. The shopping bags were heavy, so it seemed like a hell of a lot of value for the money. I was beginning to think maybe dollar stores replacing regular stores wasn't such a bad thing. Three full bags of stuff for that price? How could it be bad!?
Review: I hate James Carville and every time I see him on TV I think he is going to bite someone. Paul Begala can barely even get on TV anymore since Jon Stewart canceled his show on CNN. I only had time to read the dedication at the beginning. Begala dedicates the book to someone named Diane and talks about how she makes his heart race. Boring. Carville totally shows him up by dedicating the book to the United States Marine Corps. Oorah! The book seems like it might make a pretty good weapon if I ever have to protect myself from James Carville's bite attacks. Take it Back: This book. To the store. The jerk store.
Review: Alternated between displaying the numbers 353 and 6 7 as seen above. Fits comfortably on my wrist and does an excellent job of not telling me the time. If I move my arm too close to my face I get a strong whiff of some sort of rubber and chemical cocktail. I pressed some buttons and was able to call up a timer that constantly counted to one minute and then started over. I will wear it for a week to see if it is modern and cool as promised on the band.
Review: It's not that I distrust God, I just don't believe anything gift bags tell me to do. It seems like it would hold a couple oranges. If you trust God you might go for three. Me? I don't trust the yarn handle to hold up. Luckily, you don't have to worry about that, because Dollar Tree sells no fresh fruits or vegetables. Should hold dozens of filthy baby dolls and gummy candies.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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