
The whiff of the dear departed in my nostrils reminds me of the late (not much lamented) SID, and gets me rummaging in the racks of Super 8 cassettes to find some artefacts of his Country Music genius.
I'm not sure if the staff in charity shops are alive. They certainly don't look it. They clearly derive their dress sense from the racks of luridly coloured garments displayed in their shops. If it wasn't for the delicate scent of dry cleaning fluid emanating from their oxters the whole shebang would be overpowered with the smell of formaldahyde.
You can't even get a manky Harold Robbins paperback for a decent price.
No, I definitely can't be doing with charity shops.
Had we buried SID instead of cremating him, we could have purchased one of those frocks on the cheap.
ReplyDeleteHe would have looked lovely in tulle.
High quality of conversation the assistants in charity shops have. It always revolves around someone whose husband has just had a stroke, or whose sister has got a massive tumour on her kidney.
ReplyDeleteWell, it's nice to find out that someone has got a worse life than your own.
Yes MJ, a tulle bodybag. You could have twanged your banjo as he was lowered into the loam.
ReplyDeleteOr kidney stones Betty. I'm surprised they don't mount them on plinths and try and sell them.
Can we scatter his ashes into a peat bog?
ReplyDeleteNah, the municipal waste tip would be more appropriate.
ReplyDeleteDon't they charge extra for all that extra weight?
ReplyDeleteThey'll probably waive their fee if we allow them to recycle his thimble.
ReplyDeleteMJ has a few "stained" copies of Harold Robbins if your interested?
ReplyDeleteI once bought a green velvet jacket in a charity shop.
50p. Wore it once.
Charity shops these days eh?
ReplyDeleteThey think they're bloody Harvey Nicks!
I bet you looked a right perv in that jacket SID.
ReplyDeleteI only venture into charity shops after a few stiff Stollys Kaz.
And then they go and bloody colour coordinate all the clothes so it's impossible to find anything.
ReplyDeleteOver here, the problem isn't so much the smell of the dead as the pong of the very much alive: thrift stores are huge and that makes for a big cloud of 'men's old trainer'.
I quite like furniture reclamation shops.
ReplyDeleteI don't know why they don't go the whole hog and sell dead uncle Ebenezers moth eaten long johns along with the wardrobe.
Or Dead SID's thong.
ReplyDeleteI do not wish to think about SIDs sweaty thong thank you very much.
ReplyDeleteI'm using SID's sweaty thong as a hammock now that he's dead.
ReplyDeleteYou could also probably use it as a parachute if you fancy some naked sky diving.
ReplyDeleteI don’t like what happens to my breasts during naked skydiving.
ReplyDeleteMy sweaty thong??
ReplyDeleteGarfy you liar..you asked me to send it to you.
SID?
ReplyDeleteNot Dead SID?
Has he been resurrected?
Not wearing his thong I hope.
ReplyDeletePerhaps it's time you took him shopping at the charity shop for a new look.
ReplyDeleteThey wouldn't let him in, he's too scruffy - and he smells more of dead people than the clothing.
ReplyDeleteSID inspired this line of fragrance.
ReplyDeleteCan I just say I LOVE Tunnocks Teacakes. There's a sad story that follows but I won't 'vent my spleen' on that one just yet.
ReplyDeleteI'd love to swap links. If you're keen, comment my blog.
Geez MJ, I think I'd rather look at dead SID than those naked skydivers. My eyes! my eyes!
ReplyDeleteYou can always liven up a dull day by going in, deciding on something you like, and then bursting into tears and screaming things like "Oh God! This was my Aunty Enid's/Uncle Adolph's (delete where appropriate. I can't believe it. After the burglary I never thought I'd see it again. It was his/her dying wish that I should have it. Excuse me, mothball-smelling old sales assistant, could you get the police in here?"
ReplyDeleteI usually find you get a very acceptable discount.
Good thinking Reg.
ReplyDeleteI like a man who strikes a hard bargain.