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joepet at 10/7/07 09:48:
That's the type of voyeuristic journal entry I could do without. :-(
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joepet at 10/7/07 09:48:That's the type of voyeuristic journal entry I could do without. :-(
When my father made new house plans for this house after the fire, he took the area that had previously been my bedroom and turned it into an addition to the master bedroom. What had been the only bedroom I'd known for nearly all of my life (save for the odd trip and the time I spent living in the dorms at Antioch was now a walk-in closet and a bathroom. The actual toilet itself got placed where my television had been in my old bedroom before the fire, a fact that I still, to this day, do not believe to be the coincidence that my father claims it to be. This is now the only bathroom on the first floor (the old bathroom is now our laundry room), and although I usually use the bathroom up here on the second floor out of mere convenience, sometimes, like when I'm in the middle of cooking or baking something in the kitchen, I may duck into the master bathroom to use the facilities quickly.
For some reason, even though she hardly ever buys anything out of them, my Mom still receives a lot of print catalogues from those places that cater to ... well, I don't think there's a kind way of putting it. Basically the catalogs are filled with all manner of quaint stuff, ranging from machines or doodads that claim to heal all of your ailments, to those wooden lawn decorations of people's butts bending over to tend to some imaginary garden. These are the same places that sell all of those "World's Greatest Grandpa" t-shirts and the like, although for some inexplicable reason I saw a lot of young adults wearing those shirts around campus at UT in 2001, then all of a sudden the fad stopped and I never saw them again. I never quite figured out what was going on there, as even by the usual laws governing young adult fashion this was kind of weird. Anyway, back when we only had the one bathroom in the house I would become intimately familiar with the contents of said catalogues because Mom would always leave them in the bathroom, but now I hardly ever get to see them because, well, I don't use her bathroom very often.
The other day as I was baking, though, I stopped into that bathroom again, and quickly flipped through the catalogue offerings right below the toilet paper roll. Imagine my surprise, then, when there was actually a ThinkGeek catalogue tucked away in there. Now, first of all, my brother-in-law and I are the only two people in this house who might possibly have an interest in ThinkGeek's stuff, but the mailing address on the catalogue showed that it was quite clearly intended for Mom. More than that, though, ThinkGeek doesn't exactly strike me as the kind of company that would benefit from that kind of advertising. Particularly in this modern age, it seems like the only companies that still need to send print catalogues out are the companies that cater to people who think that pink flamingos in their front yards actually increase their property values. I might understand some other companies still doing print catalogues, but ThinkGeek is just about the last company I'd think would benefit from sending print catalogues out. The people who buy from those kind of catalogues don't exactly strike me as big consumers of Bawls, or people who would understand t-shirts with decryption codes printed on them.
joepet at 10/7/07 09:48: