Monday, July 17, 2006
I could sit around and talk about the natural wonders of the desert, the intense heat, the cultural phenoms of hillbilly trailers, gaudy gay Hollywood getaway spots, UFO's and aliens, sacred Native American land, early and mid-century modern architecture and furnishings, the politics of water and irrigation, the Dinah Shore lesbian golf tournament, Bob Hope, date farms, and the Aerial Tramway, among other things.
But what most excites my imagination there is a thrift store run by the.......
One, the store smelled like poo. It was intense. I tried to make excuses for them in my mind, but I just couldn't get past the hardcore dookey odor. Whoa. It drove us away.
Two, they didn't have T-shirts with their logo, even though the clerk said they had a silkscreening department and everything. What were they thinking?
Plus, he told us they were removing the word "retarded" from their name. It seems some parents don't want to bring their kids there and be bummed out by that word.
: 3:04 PM : 5:22 AM Then yesterday evening I surfed for 3 hours, came home and had one beer, and I guess that's all a little too much for Grandpa here. But there was a strong current and a lot of bumps for a while, so that made the paddling harder.
I am feeling way too sluggish as well, Capt'n. I put in a special request with Gree C. for her to do a whole lot of nothing for me while she was in Santa Fe. I think she has begun.
: 8:53 AM Which reminds me, one time I was trapped in a small room with a client for an hour, and she had some kind of serious gastrointestinal problem. She belched. But they were REALLY REALLY loud, long, extended, nasty sounding belches, some of which were followed by a groan. It didn't seem real. Like, they were the kind of burps a teenager would try to do on purpose as a joke. But this was no joke. Or if it was, it was at my expense. I mean, it literally was like The Exorsist without the dialogue. By the end of the hour, the whole room stank. I'm a little queasy now just remembering it.
Whoa, I'm sorry about that, peeds. Don't get stabbed.
Okay, that client sounds dizgusting. Poor Capt'n, how did you stand it without losing it?
: 9:47 AM Camp Run-Amok sounds incredible, though. A cornucopia of brilliant nutters running wild thru the zucchini patch, unencumbered by the plastic cage of society.
: 11:25 AM : 3:17 PM : 9:17 PM Links to this post:
15 Comments:
I have two problems with them, however:
One, the store smelled like poo. It was intense. I tried to make excuses for them in my mind, but I just couldn't get past the hardcore dookey odor. Whoa. It drove us away.
Two, they didn't have T-shirts with their logo, even though the clerk said they had a silkscreening department and everything. What were they thinking?
Plus, he told us they were removing the word "retarded" from their name. It seems some parents don't want to bring their kids there and be bummed out by that word.
By 
The Capt'n, at
12:26 PM
i LOVE the name of that place. it sounds so... ROMANTIC. like pulp fiction about 'tard love starring juliette lewis. i am a rotten person for liking it, right? i'm not bummed out by it at all. but the poo smell = not good.
By , at
3:04 PM
How about "Whiff o'the Tard Desert Thrift Shoppe" ?? Has a nice old fashioned appeal.
By , at
5:22 AM
Speaking of 'tards, I'm just now waking up. I feel like somebody backed a truck over me. But I can't figure out why. Palm Springs was weirdly exhausting. We were there with 2 people we haven't known for that long, which can be tiring, and plus they were queens with "BIG" personalities, so there ya go. One held me hostage in the casino till he burned through $200+.
Then yesterday evening I surfed for 3 hours, came home and had one beer, and I guess that's all a little too much for Grandpa here. But there was a strong current and a lot of bumps for a while, so that made the paddling harder.
By The Capt'n, at
8:49 AM
Capt'n, 3 hours?? Wow. I'm starting to rethink this Norf*ckingeaster / Team Shredder competition.
I am feeling way too sluggish as well, Capt'n. I put in a special request with Gree C. for her to do a whole lot of nothing for me while she was in Santa Fe. I think she has begun.
By , at
8:53 AM
Speaking of romantic...Whiff o'the Tard is IT, peeds.
Which reminds me, one time I was trapped in a small room with a client for an hour, and she had some kind of serious gastrointestinal problem. She belched. But they were REALLY REALLY loud, long, extended, nasty sounding belches, some of which were followed by a groan. It didn't seem real. Like, they were the kind of burps a teenager would try to do on purpose as a joke. But this was no joke. Or if it was, it was at my expense. I mean, it literally was like The Exorsist without the dialogue. By the end of the hour, the whole room stank. I'm a little queasy now just remembering it.
By The Capt'n, at
9:20 AM
peeds, we crossed in the ether, because I had to stop my rant to take a call from Gree C. Hair. Rest assured, she is doing a whole lotta nothing for you. Though they were out there picking special sage for Gaylord's World's Largest Smudge Stick in 105˚ heat yesterday. I said well at least it's dry and clean there, unlike how it would be in NY. And then she told me that's what you guys are having today.
Whoa, I'm sorry about that, peeds. Don't get stabbed.
By The Capt'n, at
9:27 AM
Oh it is terrible out here. Gross. I heard about the sage and I'd be a sage slave for Gaylord just to get outta NY right now. And the subways keep losing power? Why? Why can't NYC handle it? Anyway, Gree C. is verrrrrry lucky. But she will miss camp run-amok, which is sad.
Okay, that client sounds dizgusting. Poor Capt'n, how did you stand it without losing it?
By , at
9:47 AM
peeds, I was scarred by that client experience. Needless to say, I never saw her again.
Camp Run-Amok sounds incredible, though. A cornucopia of brilliant nutters running wild thru the zucchini patch, unencumbered by the plastic cage of society.
By The Capt'n, at
10:04 AM
capt'n, you must have read the runamok press release cuz you are right on target with that prediction. except there will also be drugz i'm hoping.
The plastic cage is melting here, Capt'n. I just got back from a walk and lunch and I am dizzy.
By , at
11:25 AM
it's basically one giant oven outside. no likey.
Um, I just want to say that the thrift stores in my home town ALL have signs that say "THIS IS A DRESSING ROOM< NOT A RESTROOM"- and they smell like shit. They're run by the retards. I can say that because my sister is a retard. A retards who just one a bronze in the national special olympics and might go to china kinda retard.
By , at
3:17 PM
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