Silly String On a Loofah

Let's see: it's been almost six months (fuck! really?) since I was last laid off, five and a half if you're counting pennies and pity, commes moi. So I'd say we're about ripe for a post on things I'm going to Shop the Shit Out Of Once I Am Employed Again, (SSOOOIAEA, for short. Feel free to use that on your next Facebook Scrabble game. I'm pretty sure it'll be accepted, especially if you're playing against me and your name is Rosalie and you have already beat me with words like qi and qua and reif and shit, yes, SHIT even though Facebook won't accept my graciously proferred and perfectly acceptable word of ZEN. That's right: Facebook hates breastfeeding, Buddhists and apparently me.) Ah, but I digress.

Shit, yes, shit. I want this shit even though this economy has taught me it doesn't mean shit but shit happens and I want me some of the following (shit):

1. This funky Swedish Lampel light. What can I say? I am a child of the 70's; I grew up in a house dripping with ferns, warmed by orange shag carpeting and quaaludes. I'd drape some air plants in these bad boys and call it a day. Day. Moving on.

2. A Becky Kelso ring. I realize that last time I was unemployed I listed this in my SSOOOIAEA list, but once I got a job I wasn't employed nearly long enough to buy it. So yes, Becky Kelso redux, preferably rose gold with diamond, although a moonstone will suffice. (Don't tell, but sometimes if someone is tailgating me and Zoey is not in the car I daydream about slamming on my brakes so the person behind rear-ends me. Of course in my daydream I am not hurt and the person behind me is a wealthy alcoholic who has too many DUI's so he--it's always a man--pays me off with wads of cash, hush money that then becomes my Becky Kelso ring money. Check out the bauble below and tell me it isn't worth slight whiplash. Sshhh.)

3. When I was in college I had a fake leopard print coat that was too plush so I bought some clippers at a drugstore and spent the afternoon shaving my coat. My neighbor was the Hispanic son of strawberry farmers and I saw him peeking through my living room window at me surrounded by puffs of leopard fur as if I were nuts. And maybe I was, because that shorn coat was sheer perfection and somewhere along the way I gave it away or threw it out or lost it, whatever. My neighbor avoided me for the rest of the time that I lived there, and ever since I have mourned that coat until this: 1950's Fur Leopard Print Faux Fur Trapeze Coat. Good God, with my Becky Kelso ring, a few lamps dripping with sexy time greenery--koo koo ka choo Mrs. Me, and yes, I am trying to seduce you with this swingy feline number.

4. But I am not entirely selfish in my SSOOOIAEA. No, I would love to purchase this Moroccan Leather Pouf for Zoey's room. And then I would ban all markers, crayons, paint, juice, milk, sweaty food stuffs and chapsticks from her room. Or just keep the pouf in my possession until she turns 16. (She would thank me later, of that I am sure.)

5. And lastly, once I am gainfully employed with benefits and the luxury of ignoring the evening news, once the world is again round and good and plenty, I would like me one of these:
Perhaps I should have marked this as NSFW. Whatever, just tell your IT department it's silly string on a loofah and they will never ever know that it is indeed an extreme close up of sperm fertilizing a human egg. Beautiful, right? While it rounds out my list at #5, this desire pretty much trumps all, if for nothing else than it would give me something to blog about rather than stuff I want to Shop the Shit Out Of Once I Am Employed Again.

Happy Hump Day. (You have my express permission to tell your partner tonight that you would like to spray some silly string on a loofah. It sure beats saying you want to "do it.")