Mamarati

My next door neighbors are having a garage sale.

These are the same neighbors that I suspect have a meth lab going in their back shed.

They are… how you say? ah yes… kinda trashy.

And my neighborhood is like a garage sale mecca.

So, it’s Thursday, and they’ve been hauling stuff out of the many many many sheds and other nooks and crannies on the property for days… and now it’s garage sale time. I have never seen so many cars lining my street, preventing me from entering or exiting my driveway.

And the conversation is so rich. It’s all about the haggling. You have to imagine the most southern accents you can… it’s all… “She wanted to give me eight dollars for that there mirror and I said no ma’am you can give me ten dollars. And then she said she’d give me eight fifty and…”

You can fill in the rest, all the way up to the 10 dollars.

Every conversation pouring over the fence has been exactly this conversation except with different items and different prices.

Very exciting stuff.

And the whole time they were preparing they were blasting country music.

I just have to know how much they get for the 6 foot by 4 foot velvet technicolor Jesus painting. That’s the only conversation that I want to hear.

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In other news, my boyfriend played hooky from work… since he has like 3 months of sick time and never takes any of it.
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And it was the best lovin’ EVAR!
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Loverly day. Just loverly.