Vanity sizing is out of control, man. What happens when you go in a store and the xs is hanging off you? I am not extra small. I am probably more like small-ish. I knew things were out of control when Size 0 jeans showed up on the racks. That�s just stupid. Size 0, y'all. That's not even anything! Zero = NOTHING. And before you get any ideas and start throwing stuff at me, I am most decidedly not a size 0. I have too much junk in the trunk, glove box, and side pockets to ever be a non-size.

And then there's the bitch-master Anthropologie who presents this fucking lifestyle of beautiful clothes and accessories, but seems to have vastly overestimated my salary bracket. When I go in there I march straight to the back room where I belong - I do not look left or right I just march march march to the back like a good sale shopper. Then I paw through the sheer, deliberately worn-looking t-shirts and reel back that, even on sale, they're $35. That is just un-sporting, if you ask me. It's a t-shirt! Thing should be priced for what they're really worth.

Case in point: I just bought a funny looking little skirt from Ann Taylor (I know, shut it) for $10. Original price? $128. I said Goddamn. I'm not saying there's not a place in the world for $128 skirts, but this one? Is not from that place. I swear they have monkeys at the retail headquarters who roll price dice to decide what things are going to cost. (Dang, I had to be all braggy about my bargain skills and now Kenny knows I bought a skirt. $10 honey! I saved $118! I negative-shopped! )

I love to shop though. Love, love, love it. I love it like family. I love stalking something really great and watching it get marked down until I don't want it anymore or until I can't resist it. I love trying on and considering and every now and then purchasing, which feels really good. Retail therapy is very real. But, I almost never buy anything full-price. It's just not in my nature to do it because those monkeys are just going to roll the discount dice and mark it down. Damn monkeys.

So, in further negative-shopping, Kate and I have decided to take our show on the road and try to sell the jewelry we've been making and giving away like chumps. We want to bank this shit. We make nice stuff and we mean business. Here's the thing though, we need a name for our little business*. The current top three choices are:

1. KEEN
2. SMASHING
3. COVET

Probably in that order. Please tell me what you think!

*I say "business" but I don't think we're going to bother with that whole "license" thing until we're sure we can actually make some money.

Money = something we need because the ASS MONKEY IRS seems to think Kenny and I are millionaires. How is it that we both claim 0 and have a year's worth of mortgage interest to deduct and we still freaking owe those dillholes? I take it very personally. Blarg.

Whee, only 30 more minutes to waste before I can blow this joint and get on with my weekend. Yay for weekend! For once there's not an ice storm forecast for this weekend so I can actually do things like have dinner at my sister's house (finally) and maybe even ride my mountain bike (finally). I will also be searching the couch cushions for shiny quarters to send to the Ass Monkey IRS. I should send them what we owe in pennies. Or nickels! Hey, did you hear that story about the nickel thief? Hilarious! How on earth could you even make that happen? Do you think he dumped them all in his spare bedroom just to roll around in them? Shit, you could Coinstar that lot bit by bit and have spending money for years to come. Mmmmm...nickels.

Have a good weekend, my little monkeys!

10 chatty monkeys