Yes, I’ve found another delightfully quirky book written by Mary Roach…. and you know I have to share some tidbits. This time it’s about war. Not the soldiers, not the battles, but rather the science behind the support of it. Weapons, uniforms, experimental tactics etc., and trust me it gets bizarre quickly.
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Ah, homophobia. Keeping men guessing in foxholes for generations.
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This definitely warrants further investigation.
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You can’t argue with that logic.
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Isn’t history grand?
And in case you think the book doesn’t include weird and wonderful graphics –
I like to consider myself well informed when it comes to current events. To be honest, I can’t help it since my husband is a news junkie and has it on what seems like morning, noon and night. But I also scroll through multiple sources on my iPhone feed. This is not always a good thing… as evidenced by an article I read the other day which concerned a Tweet about the redacted affidavit by Donald Trump Jr.
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And if drawing my attention to Donald Sr.’s nether regions wasn’t awful enough… there was this:
Facebook is always trying to sell me something. And since it depends on algorithms to choose the items … I have to wonder why it thinks I need organic underwear.
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A free range bra? That’s an oxymoron if ever I’ve heard one.
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High impact? Exactly how much impact do they think my girls experience…
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My car seats do not need a body guard. If I’m man enough to spill a drink while driving? They should just man up and take it.
Too many antique stores, too little time. Not to mention money.
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Mantiques? That sounded like trouble…. and as soon as we walked through the door of the large converted barn I feared my checkbook might not survive.
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1939 Rockola Art Deco juke box with unusual pop up speaker? Fabulous! The husband drooled on behalf of the man cave, but I broke his heart and refused to fork over $9,995.00.
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You know it’s not your every day thrift store when you see things like this.
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Embalming pump? That’s a coffee table piece sure to spark scintillating conversations.
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Any ideas what that is…?
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Apparently pumps of all sorts are popular.
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I got a huge kick out of the price tag description on this item.
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Lock the kids in the sweat box. That’ll keep ‘em quiet.
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If a naked blonde doesn’t encourage Junior to save his pennies, nothing will.
Three full floors of amazing items later we almost made it out the door without purchasing anything and then…
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The husband fell in love.
A long conversation with the owner followed. Photos of the Barn Mahal were shared, placement of the item was discussed. Meanwhile, I sought the price tag…
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And while slightly less painful than the first jukebox, it was still a tad more than I planned on spending that day.
Husband eyes were flashing that “I have to own it!” look and yours truly had to do some quick thinking.
A jukebox.
From 1946?
It only played 78’s!
Perry Como, Doris Day, Mitch Miller, Bing Crosby? Not man cave music. Nope. Not even close.
You might not be able to use it, but these things must be shared.
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No, not the Walking Dead kind… just zombie viral genomes. They don’t have a tv show but are still pretty impressive.
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That’s one bad ass prehistoric goldfish.
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There’s an America’s Best Restroom contest. How did I not know this? What are the categories… most comfortable commode? Most elbow room in a stall? Most stylish tampon dispenser? I need to know!
With the hope that it will rain on our property sometime in this decade, my husband purchased gutters for our baby barn/shed and I attempted to help with the installation.
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Since the project was my husband’s idea and he was in charge of purchasing supplies, this meant 3 forty minute round trips to Lowes and half the day wasted because he thinks making a list is a waste of time.
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Did he buy the right size screws?
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He did not.
Did he buy the correct downspout brackets?
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He did not.
Did he buy a new section of downspout because the piece he had leftover from a previous project was too short?
It’s a raspberry type of thin mint without the mint. Sign me up!
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We stopped into an uninteresting restaurant the other day because we were in an area we didn’t know. The atmosphere was lackluster, the meal uninspired… but the fresh seafood chowder with crab, shrimp and haddock? Perfection! I’d go back just for that.
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And I have to admit the restroom sign made me grin.
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I think that’s an advertising bridge too far.
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Of course.
Because when I’m craving comfort food… kale, quinoa and soybean ice cream really hit the spot.
Not finding any vintage beer or whisky crates on our shopping trip to the lakes region, we headed to the mid coast for a different batch of stores.
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We hit the Wiscasset antique mall first. This is my favorite place to shop for treasure. Three floors, numerous dealers and a whole lot of everything under the sun.
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They had boxes galore. Biscuits, seafood, soda pop, ammunition, fruit… everything but what I was looking for.
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Classic!
The next store we tried had a vintage husband attitude corrector…
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As well as a disturbingly large dwarf face.
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Another box, but still not alcohol related.
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This?
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I have absolutely no explanation for.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 