These piles of outdated polyester fabric and scraps of fake fur that nobody uses anymore belonged to Hunneypunkin's late grandmother so even though they're useless they're sort of like heirlooms.
I might still figure out what this black rectangular piece of hard plastic with ridges around the sides that's been sitting on the counter looking ugly for thirty-eight months belongs to.
What's-her-name said she wanted these Disney videos but she never came to get them which probably means she doesn't actually want them and was only taking them to be nice so if I take them to her she'll be cheesed and if I mention it to her a twelfth time she'll be cheesed but if I get rid of them and she really did want them she'll be cheesed so they're destined to sit on my table in limbo to infinity. Possibly even beyond.
This was my favorite stuffy when I was five.
They're still good clothes.
The Precious drew this when he was two.
I truly intend to read these tomes.
There's one chance in a hundred that I could fit into these pants again.
There's one chance in a brazillion that Hunneypunkin really is going to repair that coffee table.
I'm going to salvage the good denim from those worn-out Levi's and make them into...something.
This magazine has a picture of Jeremy Renner.
I'd rather blog.
Why not have your Hunnypunkin drop them off at Goodwill in Moses Lake? If he is rather attached to them, have one of your minions drop them off at a thrift store, or at least at a house where the occupants aren't home for the day.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome.
PS: Keep your stuff in Quincy. Don't deliver it to Ephrata.
YW