Ninth. Nineth. Ugh. Ninth is right, but it looks like it should sound like "nihnth" instead of "nienth" (or "neinth", if you're German, and if you are... please let me know, because that would make my life).
I had an adventure, unfortunately proving that my life is not all that boring.
After a stressful eight days, my body decided that it couldn't function without one particular object, and my brain decided that that was a good idea. It, too, refused to function properly without this object.
The object? A viscoelastic liquid commonly known as "Silly Putty" (probably trademarked, registered, or under copyright protection of some sort by Crayola, also trademarked, registered, or copyrighted). For some reason, my fingers decided that they needed something with particular amounts of give and resistance. My brain interpreted this as my impression of ThinkGeek's Smart Mass Thinking Putty. Unfortunately, I needed it right then. The thinking putty is at least three days away, probably more like five, and almost $10. I don't really have $10 to give to Timmy (the ThinkGeek monkey), so I moved on to Silly Putty. Silly Putty, at least in my memories, is no more than $3. Similarly, it is probably at WalMart.
I can get to WalMart. I have a friend with a car.
So I texted her, hoping that it would in fact be at WalMart. She readily agreed to participate when I said "Would you mind a silly putty-finding adventure?"
Since both of us are rather strapped for cash, it promised to be a boring adventure. But once we got to WalMart, we discovered that finding what one wants in the toy section is difficult.
We tried the "Novelty Toy" aisle, which has some creepy "lifelike" creatures. I kind of think of them as "deathlike", since how many live snakes squish creepily under your hands, as if they have no bones at all? Same for spiders, which don't have bones, but do have structure to their bodies. But Silly Putty isn't a novelty toy.
We tried the PlayDough aisle, which was likewise unproductive.
It's not a car, or an educational toy. No, it's not on an aisle at all!
Silly Putty can be found at my particular WalMart on the first aisle of the toy section, sort of, the second long row back, on a stand all to itself. It is $2.
Having found the Silly Putty, so essential to my thought process, I tried to pick a colour. Each package had two eggs, one original and one "bright".
The Original putty comes in red eggs. Unfortunately, it's not red. So I had no way to tell whether or not the "bright" putty was the same colour as its egg. I wanted... not yellow, not orange, and certainly not pink putty... I wanted blue putty. But did the blue egg contain blue putty?
I didn't know!
!!!
Imagine the stress on my poor brain. First, I have an insanely stressful week. My brain finally accepts that I can relax, but my body refuses to obey it. Then, my body decides that it can't function without Silly Putty, and my brain accepts this. But then! Then I find my holy grail, and I just can't pick the proper one.
My friend and I stood there in the aisle, which was fairly deserted, trying to peer into the slightly-cracked eggs. I'm sure we looked ridiculous. I was frantic, she was confused by my desperation, and both of us were sticking our fingernails into little plastic eggs.
Finally, it was confirmed that the blue eggs do indeed contain blue putty.
I was ready to take off, but my friend decided that she had had a stressful week and deserved chocolate. She's more broke than I, but she does have a pre-paid Visa affair that her mother can't trace. It had $9.
We went to the chocolate aisle, which, happily, lay next to the sock location. She hunted for cheap chocolate, and found... Mars Bars.
Neither of us had ever eaten Mars Bars, but we have both seen this video by Charlie McDonell.
Hopefully he doesn't mind me putting this up. I feel that he can get over it, since I bought his album on iTunes.
We got the Mars Bars to split, giggling about "magic Mars Bars", although neither of us had cash. I promised to make it up to her in either cash or some tangible thing that she wanted. On our way out of the aisle, she noticed some dark chocolate mint Milky Ways.
I bought them for her. We have a barter system.
Then it was off to the sock aisle! I won't tell you about that. It was boring if you're not me. Five-minute story later, we exited the sock aisle in possession of blue, grey, and white stripey socks and, notably, no fuzzy socks.
Checkout was another adventure. As per usual, only six or seven of the thirty registers were open, so we stood in line for about ten minutes before one opened up. While waiting, we tested Halle Barry's new perfume line. Most of them were decent, but the last one, down on the bottom, the only one not able to be picked up, was very... citrus-y. Of course, that was the one I made my friend spray on her arm because I refused to test it on myself.
I actually think that "cloyingly sweet" might be a better description that simply "citrus-y". It was as if some sugar monster had devoured the limonene from every citrus fruit in the world and then vomited it up (with sugar instead of bile) into a perfume bottle.
I apologised for her having it all over her arm, but didn't offer to split the stench. Perhaps it's for fruitflies.
And that's how I ended up with my Silly Putty and an addiction to Mars Bars.
The object? A viscoelastic liquid commonly known as "Silly Putty" (probably trademarked, registered, or under copyright protection of some sort by Crayola, also trademarked, registered, or copyrighted). For some reason, my fingers decided that they needed something with particular amounts of give and resistance. My brain interpreted this as my impression of ThinkGeek's Smart Mass Thinking Putty. Unfortunately, I needed it right then. The thinking putty is at least three days away, probably more like five, and almost $10. I don't really have $10 to give to Timmy (the ThinkGeek monkey), so I moved on to Silly Putty. Silly Putty, at least in my memories, is no more than $3. Similarly, it is probably at WalMart.
I can get to WalMart. I have a friend with a car.
So I texted her, hoping that it would in fact be at WalMart. She readily agreed to participate when I said "Would you mind a silly putty-finding adventure?"
Since both of us are rather strapped for cash, it promised to be a boring adventure. But once we got to WalMart, we discovered that finding what one wants in the toy section is difficult.
We tried the "Novelty Toy" aisle, which has some creepy "lifelike" creatures. I kind of think of them as "deathlike", since how many live snakes squish creepily under your hands, as if they have no bones at all? Same for spiders, which don't have bones, but do have structure to their bodies. But Silly Putty isn't a novelty toy.
We tried the PlayDough aisle, which was likewise unproductive.
It's not a car, or an educational toy. No, it's not on an aisle at all!
Silly Putty can be found at my particular WalMart on the first aisle of the toy section, sort of, the second long row back, on a stand all to itself. It is $2.
Having found the Silly Putty, so essential to my thought process, I tried to pick a colour. Each package had two eggs, one original and one "bright".
The Original putty comes in red eggs. Unfortunately, it's not red. So I had no way to tell whether or not the "bright" putty was the same colour as its egg. I wanted... not yellow, not orange, and certainly not pink putty... I wanted blue putty. But did the blue egg contain blue putty?
I didn't know!
!!!
Imagine the stress on my poor brain. First, I have an insanely stressful week. My brain finally accepts that I can relax, but my body refuses to obey it. Then, my body decides that it can't function without Silly Putty, and my brain accepts this. But then! Then I find my holy grail, and I just can't pick the proper one.
My friend and I stood there in the aisle, which was fairly deserted, trying to peer into the slightly-cracked eggs. I'm sure we looked ridiculous. I was frantic, she was confused by my desperation, and both of us were sticking our fingernails into little plastic eggs.
Finally, it was confirmed that the blue eggs do indeed contain blue putty.
I was ready to take off, but my friend decided that she had had a stressful week and deserved chocolate. She's more broke than I, but she does have a pre-paid Visa affair that her mother can't trace. It had $9.
We went to the chocolate aisle, which, happily, lay next to the sock location. She hunted for cheap chocolate, and found... Mars Bars.
Neither of us had ever eaten Mars Bars, but we have both seen this video by Charlie McDonell.
Hopefully he doesn't mind me putting this up. I feel that he can get over it, since I bought his album on iTunes.
We got the Mars Bars to split, giggling about "magic Mars Bars", although neither of us had cash. I promised to make it up to her in either cash or some tangible thing that she wanted. On our way out of the aisle, she noticed some dark chocolate mint Milky Ways.
I bought them for her. We have a barter system.
Then it was off to the sock aisle! I won't tell you about that. It was boring if you're not me. Five-minute story later, we exited the sock aisle in possession of blue, grey, and white stripey socks and, notably, no fuzzy socks.
Checkout was another adventure. As per usual, only six or seven of the thirty registers were open, so we stood in line for about ten minutes before one opened up. While waiting, we tested Halle Barry's new perfume line. Most of them were decent, but the last one, down on the bottom, the only one not able to be picked up, was very... citrus-y. Of course, that was the one I made my friend spray on her arm because I refused to test it on myself.
I actually think that "cloyingly sweet" might be a better description that simply "citrus-y". It was as if some sugar monster had devoured the limonene from every citrus fruit in the world and then vomited it up (with sugar instead of bile) into a perfume bottle.
I apologised for her having it all over her arm, but didn't offer to split the stench. Perhaps it's for fruitflies.
And that's how I ended up with my Silly Putty and an addiction to Mars Bars.
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