On Saturday we finally cleaned out the garage. Around three years ago we got new furniture and decided to just put the old stuff in the garage. Just for awhile. This started a cavalcade of just opening up the garage and heaving more stuff on top. Soon the Christmas tree took the motorcycle’s spot. Then the motorcycle took the tools spot. Then random mountain goats showed up to hop from pile to pile. Damn goats.
Okay, there weren’t any goats. But, last Saturday we removed any temptation by having a garage sale. Yippy frickin’ yeah. I made Fuzzy speak to the random crazy people that wander from garage sale to garage sale wanting to talk about how Obama wasn’t born in the US. “Stop touching my stuff and go get a life!” This happens to be the same thing I say all the time at our local bear bar.
I stayed in the back organizing the fifty-two tubs of Christmas speculating the entire time if converting to Judaism would just save space.
After three hundred small town crazy people sorted through our Herb Ritts collection, neoprene pants and serving trays we now have our garage back. As a gay man, I have to say it's good feeling to finally be free of twelve Herb Ritts framed prints. That and a garage.
...if converting to Judaism would just save space.
ReplyDeleteI can attest, the baggage from the guilt will fill your garage up, plus a storage unit and possibly your summer house.
You failed to mention you were having a garage sale. I was hoping I could come along, fiddle with your junk and haggle you down on a bundle of mis-shapen wire coat hangers.
ReplyDeleteStart collecting more junk - I'm coming back next year to buy one of your sturdy goats!
12 framed prints? You remind me one of my college roommates.
ReplyDeleteNice blog change