Many's the happy hour I've spent browsing in charity shops. There's nothing like some purple polyester flares and a pair of cracked broques with pointy uppy toes to set my heart a flutter.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.
27 comments:
Had we buried SID instead of cremating him, we could have purchased one of those frocks on the cheap.
He 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.
Well, 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.
Or 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?
Nah, the municipal waste tip would be more appropriate.
Don't they charge extra for all that extra weight?
They'll probably waive their fee if we allow them to recycle his thimble.
MJ has a few "stained" copies of Harold Robbins if your interested?
I once bought a green velvet jacket in a charity shop.
50p. Wore it once.
Charity shops these days eh?
They think they're bloody Harvey Nicks!
I bet you looked a right perv in that jacket SID.
I 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.
Over 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.
I 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.
I do not wish to think about SIDs sweaty thong thank you very much.
I'm using SID's sweaty thong as a hammock now that he's dead.
You could also probably use it as a parachute if you fancy some naked sky diving.
I don’t like what happens to my breasts during naked skydiving.
My sweaty thong??
Garfy you liar..you asked me to send it to you.
SID?
Not Dead SID?
Has he been resurrected?
Not wearing his thong I hope.
Perhaps it's time you took him shopping at the charity shop for a new look.
They wouldn't let him in, he's too scruffy - and he smells more of dead people than the clothing.
SID inspired this line of fragrance.
Can 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.
I'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!
You 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?"
I usually find you get a very acceptable discount.
Good thinking Reg.
I like a man who strikes a hard bargain.
Post a Comment