One of J’s friend’s father-in-law died recently.
J offered to help move some of the belongings out of the house. His friend, as a token of thanks for the help, has offered to let J have his choice of one of the FIL’s prized possessions. Behold:
Should your vision be impaired, as I understand it can be difficult to Look Directly Into The Fug, let me break it down for you:
-Stuffed dear head
-Collection of clay jugs (presence of moonshine unconfirmed
-Miniature ceramic reclining ten-point buck
-Horseshoe votive holder
-STUFFED BABY BEAR
OH. MY. GOD.
You can guess from my distressed tone which two of these charming pieces J has the most interest in.
J: “A bear skin rug! Our house could be like a vintage Playboy photo shoot! Or a baby bear! The kitty cats could pretend to ride it, and it would be like the circus!”
Me: “Holy crap, I am married to a Crazy.”
I get that he is probably just messing with me, but sometimes I can’t tell with him and he pulls some crazy shit. So help me God, if a piece of taxidermy should ever enter my home, I’m going to Throw Down.