I WILL Gnaw Your Arm Off And…

Just gettin’ started…

SHOPPING DAY!

That’s right, I was bored out of my ever loving mind and felt the need to spend large sums of money for no good reason whatsoever.

I could care less about Black Friday. Sales were running today that worked for me and did not require that I roll my lazy ass out of bed (or possibly from behind my computer screen) in the wee hours of the morning to fight with some Red-bull wired Soccer Mom on the prowl for the latest Furby, iPad, cell phone, Lalaloopsy doll or Razr scooter.

I don’t think I’m buying Christmas gifts this year. What do you buy a Goose anyway??? A purple wading pool? My friends and I discussed this over drinks the other night and the consensus was that wading pools were seasonal and therefore difficult if not impossible to find. Somebody then suggested a 50lb bag of corn; after all, geese did like to eat. That was just too much and busted us all up. A couple of us fell out of our seats and got too much attention. It was decided I was not allowed to drink anymore shots the rest of the night since I couldn’t get myself under control. I haven’t been able to look at or eat corn since without laughing hysterically.

The thanks thing isn’t really being felt this year either. That’s why it isn’t happening at my house. I put my foot down and refused. Wonder and disbelief! The Thanksgiving Goddess not do her magic and cook for the masses? Not turnout gourmet pies and breads. No bird? No other stuff? Nope. I invited myself to someone else’s house this year. Then I laughed when I saw the whites of their eyes. I’m thinking Hansel and Gretel and a big ol’ oven right now…hehe.

 

 
Goes with the dress!

So I went shopping. And had a mini spa day. It was heaven after being in sick in bed for a couple of weeks. Mani-Pedi, facial, bliss. I had planned on just stretching my legs, getting some air and window shopping. My usual thing. I’m walking along though and I’m seeing 50% off, Save Now!, Everything up to 70% off! Buy One, Get One Half Off!  You can’t do something like this to a woman. It’s just not fair. It’s like chumming the water and putting on a big fat sardine and fishing for Sailfish or Tarpon. Today was all about shoes. I swear they were everywhere I looked and they were all calling my name. And every time I reached for a pair to look at them some empty-headed condom dispenser put their hands on them at the same time. Something evil comes over me at times like this. I’m sure I growl. Gnash my teeth at them? Whatever. The shoes usually fall to the floor and the individual flashes a frightened smile and moves rather quickly away. Then I scoop up my treasure, look at the price, grunt painfully, put them back down and leave. Today when this happened, IT snarled back.

ROAR!

Red Michael Kors pumps, my size, deep discount. We both had our hands on them and we weren’t letting go. It was going down.

“Excuse me”, I smiled.

“If you don’t mind”, she grinned.

“I would like to see the price”, I grinned back.

“I need to see the size”,she spitted.

“I’m sure they have larger sizes in the back”, I smirked.

She gasped and dropped, I tugged and walked away. I did turn back and smile toothily at her. I believe she took a step back. I then went to a clerk and had them get me a smaller size from the back. I have said before that I grew-up the only girl amidst a sea of testosterone. I know how to get what I want.

VICTORY!

I proceeded down the street, clutching my prized pumps that I actually FOUGHT for (wahoo!) and managed to snag another pair of shoes, fab earrings, gorgeous lingerie (this is an ALWAYS) and a tailored blouse that will rock those red pumps the next time the friends and I go do our thing! Thank God (!) I didn’t find the Handbags. I managed to maintain tunnel vision today. Handbags are my kryptonite and I can literally implode (explode?) a credit card if I get to close to one. That is all it takes… one. One Balenciaga. One Chloe. One Givenchy. Even talking about them makes my fingers itch with the need to touch the leather and the lining, to see the stitching, to smell the inside of the bag to make sure it isn’t a reproduction made from an inferior product. I know, It all sound similar to my voyeuristic pleasure I indulge in with a suit. This actually transcends that. I can be found in a the purse department of any department store in a near stupor. I am literally overwhelmed with choice. My artist’s eye is bombarded with ever color of the rainbow in every shade and hue. My finger’s and hands ache toward the tactile. I’m very much the touchy-feely type.If your into hands-on then I’m your girl. BDSM need not apply please. I’ve tried some and it just isn’t me. Back to bags… if I’m OCD or have an addiction then this is it. I have to be physically removed from the purse department. literally carried. Usually a purse had to be pried from my clutched fingers. I have a closet full. All in their special bags, hanging waiting for their special occasion. I have the less expensive bags [$75- $50] in drawers; my everyday bags.

It’s gonna take a while to save for this one…

Manolo Polo?

I slaver over Christian Louboutin and Manolo Blaniks too, Manolo has the boots I have been craving forever :’-((  That’s right, I am a materialist bitch hiding out in a huge dark brick and mortar nook of WTF? Not really, I only pull this stunt every 3 months or so maybe. The Damn Goose was quite surprised I avoided the handbag. I had been muttering about the Chloe for a while.

Now I’ve depleted my savings quite a bit. I guess I need to drum up some more work. With the holidays my one job goes on hiatus so financially I am bored for a couple of months. These boots definitely wont be walking into my closet anytime soon ~sigh~ You’re suggest is probably to ask The Damn Goose for the money. NOw that just too damn funny! Wait ’til I tell my friends that one at our next clique together. The Mad Mataharis will laugh their asses off, a double of us will fall out of our seats, garner too much attention and I won’t be able to drink anymore shots for the rest of the night, lol! Now this time I plan on waiting ’til it gets late before I lay it on them so they will appreciate it more and laugh harder. Hopefully they all piss themselves; it will serve them right.
In the mean time, I’ll just have to dream. I’m sure it’ll come back to me with luck, perseverance and a whole lot of patience. Life’s like that. And I can do it without any Haunk(!).

Paper?

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