Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Oh, the Things We Saw in Burbank!

On last Sunday’s schedule: a visit to a Burbank warehouse where studios sell off set dressings they don’t need anymore, an estate sale that of Joni Mitchell (but which probably wasn’t, based on the fact that Joni Mitchell is not dead), and finally an awkward place. (All my adventures end in an awkward place, so final designation was not surprising.)

First, the studio dumping grounds, where the most recent dump was taken by State of Georgia, the thing that once was Raven-Symone's sitcom. I could have bought this for only $20! The shining bling effect on William Shakespeare's ear stud alone was worth $15.50, I say.)

There was also the following piece of wall decor, which I imagine appeared in the room of a would-be terrorist moments before Bones and Booth stopped him from executing his act of terror. Also, this clipping came from a giant newspaper that did not believe in line breaks or left-justified text.

I like this photo. I think it has composition. And also JFK. But all that stupid composition might distract you from the highlight of the photo, which would be the baby dolls who were made to be in a state of constant agonized horror.

Look, I'll cut out all that distracting composition so you can just concentrate on what is important. Those expressions? Those are ones of horror if we are lucky.

The following photo depicts the highlight of not only the shopping expedition but also 2012 so far. What is a graboid, you ask? Oh,  I am so glad you asked. Before you click this link, I will give you a hint: Reba McEntire probably has this sign somewhere in her condo.

Another thing was three things, which is confusing on a grammatical level. But the fact that those three things were three severed mannequin legs is confusing on a psychological level.

My friend Stephanie just bought one leg, both in case she runs into some bad luck at the factory and also so that she has a reason to say hi to Heather Mills the next time she runs into her. (You know that Heather Mills is the best one-legged celebrity? It’s true. Not that I wish there were more one-legged people, necessarily, but Stephanie and I agree that we wished we could have given the shout-out to someone better than Heather Mills.)

Okay, we have left the studio warehouse in this point in the day. I know, based on the painting, you might think that we had stumbled into the set dressing from a movie about a woman who lives near the beach, has an exaggerated feminine physique but also looked like a penis. (This is a self-portrait.) But no, we spotted this painting at the estate sale. Yes, this once hung in someone’s home. (I still think it's a self-portrait.)


Alternate theory: It was actually the third dog’s estate sale.

Alternate alternate theory: It wasn’t a picture of a dog. It was another self-portrait of the penis lady.

Now we’re at the third location, a kind of thrift store crossed with a haunted carnival. But I think this will all seem funnier if you pretend we’re still at the estate sale. 

As you can see, Marge Simpson’s sunhat was among the items for sale.

This angry baby statue enclosed in a birdcage stood several feet taller than I do. That isn’t a joke. That’s a fact.

They put him on hold for me.

Given everything I have already showed you, it may sound surprising to hear me say that this golfball chair was one of the most perplexing items. I just want to know where a golfball-shaped chair would be appropriate. The chair is clearly too heavy and awkward to carry around at a golf tournament, where it would make you look awesome. And it would be crazy to put this near a tennis court. I just don’t know what to make of this one.

Painting the lawn jockey’s eyes blue and his skin a lighter shade of brown does not make him less offensive. It might even make it more offensive, just on grounds that someone might have understood that it looked “a little racist-y” and then attempted to undo that racism in such a half-assed manner. 

Not pictured: the coffee table I bought.

That’s it! No more stuff!

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