beware the pre-christmas pluck...

I just want to be at my best for Christmas Eve dinner, you know? Well-presented. Whisker-free. Having spent a great deal of time yesterday absentmindedly playing with my chin and neck hairs, I knew that this morning should really be dedicated to the pre-Christmas pluck.

I head to the bathroom with purpose. I ablute as per my regular morning routine and prep my supplies: industrial tweezers and magnifying mirror. All goes well for the first half dozen whiskers. Then, as I'm turning my neck to get to one of the really determined, nearly-invisible buggers, I feel a twinge. Have I? Have I really done this? Yes, yes I have. I have displaced a rib. By moving my neck. It's December 24th. We are travelling 3 hours in the car. This seems to be the perfect time to be really high on muscle relaxants.

I spend the next five minutes on my bedroom floor trying to get a tennis ball to adjust me. No luck.

I head downstairs to greet David. He notices that I'm grimacing a titch.

"What is it?"

"I displaced a rib."

He snorts. "Of course you have. How?"

"Tweezing."

He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

"I turned my head instead of turning my whole body to get more light on the bastard hairs." I plunk myself down sideways on his lap. "Could you please press really hard around my left shoulder blade?"

He uses the heel of his hand.

"A little up... To the left. Yeah! YEAH!! There!!" I lean into it.

"Whoa! Whoa! If my hand slips you're going to skewer yourself on the corner of the mantle. Use my head."

I move so that I'm now centred on his lap. He pushes the top of his skull against my shoulder blade. I lean back...

"Whoa! Whoa! Holy Crap you're strong!" Checking for whiplash, he circles his neck before pressing his elbow against my back.

"That's it!  That's it!! Right there!!" I am now desperately trying meld my body with David's as I push back into his elbow.

"Whoa! Whoa!! Too much!!" He moves his shoulder to ensure it hasn't been dislocated. "Have you tried leaning against a tennis ball?"

"Yeah. Upstairs." I breathe in and wince. "Yeesh." I breathe out carefully before tentatively adjusting my shoulders. "Okay... no problem. I can be high all day, right? You'll drive?"

Merry Christmas everyone! Here's to a very HAPPY and very HEALTHY New Year!

Preying upon the vintage nerds

Dicks. SO many dicks out there on the interwebs. Leaving virtual spooge on our screens and an ether trail of fake websites / Facebook pages / online stores. Preying upon the vintage clothing / cheap electronics / insert niche market here nerds.

I freely admit, I click that bait. Vintage style wool coat?  The Angels' chorus sings: Halle-fucking-lujah!  My years' long search is now over!!

It's only $50.12!!!  Shit. That price is too low.

Too low, you say? Yeah, it's too fucking low. Come on, even the Bay when it's selling its wool coats for 50% off will still rate $100 or more for a well made wool coat.

It's a fucking scam.


Victorian style boots? $42.46.                                   









Vintage Dress? $34.59.


Mother fucker.







Go ahead and order from this site. You're right, the price is SO GOOD. And you might even get something shipped to you that could possibly, maybe somewhat resemble the product in the photo, but odds are you're not going to see it and when you attempt to contact the sales department asking either where it is or try to figure out how to get your money back for the piece of shit that they did ship you - the company will be long gone.

Want an I PHONE 11 for $100? You're not going to get it. An accurately-crafted Victorian ensemble for $30? You are deluding yourself.

The modern snake-oil salesmen are pitching to the niche nerds / bargain hunters and will keep doing it as long as people are buying it. And then you read in the comments sections of "Is <insert fraudulent company name here> a scam/legit?" from all the poor schmucks who only wanted a double-breasted wool English riding jacket for $35 instead of $350 for the real deal and are shocked that they didn't get it.

If it seems too good to be true? Come on now... everyone!

"IT'S TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!!" 

Google it. DuckDuckGo it. Hell, you can fucking Bing it. Just don't buy it.