Today Victor and I went thrift shopping for weird shit. Or at least, I did. Victor went to make sure I didn’t come home with the head of a chupacabra, which was an actual possibility this trip.
Then we found a duck that really wanted to hug you.
We didn’t buy either of them though because they were expensive and I’m running out of room, and because I found something else that made my heart stop.
Victor: You were yelling with excitement. I was yelling with horror. Just...no. No, no, no.
me: WHAT -ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It’s an ancient, screaming, dead baby alligator.
Victor: Yes. Exactly.
me: AND IT’S ONLY TWELVE DOLLARS.
Victor: Motherfucking bargain hunter.
me: It’s like someone found the best fucked up taxidermy ever and decided to charge by the inch rather than by the awesome.
Victor: “By the awesome” isn’t a term of measurement.
me: It’s metric.
Victor: Please don’t buy that.
me: It’s like he’s screaming about himself. Like he can’t even believe how amazing he is. AND I CAN’T EITHER.
me: Frankly, we should all be so lucky as to have the confidence of Jefferson Peabody.
Victor: You already named him?
me: Sometimes they name themselves. HE’S TRYING TO RAISE THE ROOF WITH HIS LITTLE ALLIGATOR HANDS.
Victor: Fine. But I don’t know where you’re going to put him. You’re running out of room for old dead animals.
me: No worries. I have the perfect place.
PS. Yes, of course there’s a greeting card.