Ang loves having a yard sale about as much as the Dad from "A Christmas Story" loved changing a flat tire or getting a leg lamp. To say she's excited does a gross injustice to excited people everywhere.
Me? I never have grasped what is so freaking awesome about selling your junk to a bunch of people who think it's solid gold, yet want to dicker with you on price, even if it's a .50 cent book. All it makes me want to do is throw a golf club at 'em and send them to the mall if they think it's too much.
Ang? It's like she died and went to heaven; some deadbeat wants to offer her a dollar for a 2 dollar pair of shoes and she's like some vendor at the flea market in her prime. God Bless her; I hope she sells out the place, and if somebody wants to rent Rakes and Trot out for manual labor? All the better.
I'm just glad I'll be at work for the next 2 days, far away from the freaks and wacko's who'll descend upon my driveway the next two days wanting to buy anything not nailed down.
Like I told Ang, if you need me I'll be at work, trying to sell furniture while I obsess about the Red Sox chances for the division and trying to figure out the magic number for the wild card. And oh yeah, I'll be plotting my campaign for Pedie to win the MVP while I'm at it.
As much as I hate the off-season, I've come to view it as a time to try and get sane so nobody in the family attempts to have me committed.
Finally, completely unrelated to this evenings rant, prayers to anyone who lost somebody 7 years ago today and God Speed to all the troops serving overseas as a result of the tragedy that happened on this day.
::Flips Osama the bird::
She’d Pick Me Every Time
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