Friday, July 20, 2012

Thrift Store Fuquerie Lives Again

I returned to the same thrift store to obtain Jeff Bridges Jesus for someone else. I was happy to discover more things I had missed.

I know this candle is supposed to be an apple pie, but looks more like moldy liposuction waste covered in grubs. Yummy!






This is probably an alien dog statue. For some reason, he has no feet. His legs just end at the stubs.


Skinned alligator doohickey. Somewhere out there is a wallet missing a head.


Crocheted pears and apple. I know they look fantastic, but they were completely covered in cat hair.


I turned a corner and was horrified to discover the corpse of a disemboweled bunny, its empty eyes still pleading for a swift death.


Nothing says "Goodwill" like an unlabeled Ziploc bag of a mysterious brown substance.


This is what I can only assume is a poop-shaped bottle filled with shit because no one in their right mind would actually manufacture such a bottle for olives.


Floyd. What else can I say about him?


Here's a sampler just crying out for tentacles and chainsaw maniacs.


Little girls are apparently also made of soulless, black eyes and pure evil.


Judging by this particular Anne Geddes, she's trying to smother children in flowers.


Every time you look into this mirror, you see your shattered dreams. Oh wait, that's just glass.


Little Miss Needs-To-Pee is getting ready to turn that bear into a voodoo doll. The bear knows what's coming, just look at his face.


I didn't realize angels were allowed to get high as balls.


Owls. Just because there's always owls.


Marathon lubrication. See? There's a reason lube reminded me of wonderful fuquerie and it's not because I'm a pervert. Well, it is, but not the only reason anyway.


Jesus and the tomb action figure set. Because nothing says action like a corpse calmly coming back to life. There were three of these. One for each child you need to terrorize.


And finally, carrots having sex standing up.
 

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