My friend, Bridget, recently lucked into some old stuff given to her by an elderly neighbor who was just going to toss it out. She just wanted it gone. Some of that "junk" turned out to be eBay-able, and Bridget and I have been discussing the merits of old people who keep their possessions in pristine condition (I'm not talking about the hoarders here, the ones with newspapers dating back to the Kennedy regime and boxes full of shit from QVC).
With all my grandparents gone, perhaps I should audition for the role of a grandmotherly figure in my life. It could be like "Big Brother." I'd let a slew of grandmas move in with me and let them go all Blanche and Rose on each other like on "The Golden Girls" and do challenges like baking me cookies and knitting me sweaters and shit and then evict the shitty grandmas until I have one kickass grandma*.
Also, don't put pictures of your grandma up on the internets, people. I just googled "Grandma" and got a whole lot of images I could have stolen for this blog post**.
* And when she can't bake or knit anymore I'd put her ass in a nursing home. But a nice one where they turn you twice a day so you don't get bedsores and get your hair done once a week (with hairspray to freeze it so it will look the same all week) and give you ice cream when all your teeth fall out. And then I could do Season Two and get a new grandma and forget about the first one just like Reuben Studdard, Taylor Hicks. and whoever won Survivor: Micronesia.
** See. I do have ethics. And some semblance of morality. You can thank my grandma.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment