This post has been a long time in the making. Woody, over at woodntyaknowit, started what could only be described as a divinely inspired social movement. Thrift store pen pals would receive random items found at (you guessed it) thrift stores, then they would post about it on their blog. In between publishing arguably the funniest blog I have ever read, cooking, shopping at thrift stores, attending nerd conventions, and dabbling in the occult (I made that one up) Woody manages to squeeze in a career as an electrical engineer. Whew… I have no room to complain about how busy my life is.
Never the less; several months ago I got a package in the mail. Hoping that it was the box of live bees I had ordered the week before, I rushed home to don my bee suit. In my haste, I failed to read the return address. You can imagine my surprise when I carefully released the contents of the box into my neighbors apartment and this fell out.
I don’t think this will shut her dog up as well as the bees, but Bacon and I were excited none the less. I removed my protective gear to get a better look.
The first item appears to be a picture of a man with a chunk of his face missing. Disturbing, but when I moved the trinket,
Holy Shit! his nose appears! What evil magic did you send me Woody? It turns out, the “nose” is merely a chain connected to this poor mans skull, which you can tell by his expression, he is thrilled about. This toy gave me hours of terrifying fun, as I turned the follicular challenged fellow from the elephant man into Abe Vigoda. The back of the “toy” said a couple of things I found interesting as well.
“Choking Hazard” caught my eye, as you would need an enormous hole in your face to get anywhere close to choking on this thing… no offense to the guy on the front of the toy. Next it says that it is “not for children under 3.” That’s a wise choice, but I’m well over the legal limit this thing requires, and I’m fucking terrified of it. I decided to make an aftermarket modification and change the inscription to read “not for people.”
Thankfully Woody sent me something wholesome to fend off the night terrors nose-guy was giving me. “Grow your own Noah’s ark” sounds like good, clean, family fun.
Until you notice the frog making sexy eyes to the pig on the front.
I guess if I was stranded on a boat for 40 days and 40 nights, interspecies mating might not sound like such a bad idea. Thanks to the good-time vibes Noah was putting out on that raft, we have creatures like the platypus, the mule, and the liger. The kit comes equipped with two giraffes and the big guy himself. When placed in water, the three characters will grow before your eyes! Shoot me now, I’ve seen it all. I tore open the package with such ferocity, God himself was slightly startled.
Toxic Noah figure-check mate
I put everything together, then prayed to slip into a coma so I didn’t have to watch the painfully slow transformation process. Three excruciating days went by and Noah and friends had reached maximum water retention. As expected, bloated Noah and I had a lot of fun together. The first few dates were awkward. I had to catch him up on everything that’s happened over the last few millenia. Spanish Inquisition, Revolutionary War, Berlin Wall, the Jonas Brothers… The whole Jesus thing really blew his mind. But after a couple weeks he started to become distant. It felt like he was turning back into his old self. Shrinking away from me when I tried to talk to him about my day. The relationship finally just dried up, and I had to move on. 😦
If you havent checked out Woody’s blog, do yourself a favor and click the link. You may be the next lucky thrift store pen pal.