Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Will and Testament

I'm pretty sure that I have Bronchitis or Pneumonia, whichever is more fatal, and that I'm going to drown on my own mucus if I ever manage to fall asleep tonight.

This is official notice that in the event of my death, The Closet and it's inhabitants shall inherit all of my internet "bookmarks". Mr. Ashley will bestow them upon you daily and this post serves as official notice of that (Mr. Ashley, you have to check Google, Internet Explorer and Firefox bookmarks on both laptops. There is no organized system, surprise surprise.) It is a fascinating treasure trove of information, and probably the most interesting thing I have to bequeath upon anyone.

All I ask is that someone with good grammar skills puts together my obituary, I will terrorize you all from beyond the grave if there are any typos or if I think it sounds dumb. If I felt better, I'd just write it now myself, but I'm dying and it's the least you all could do.

I'm going to go euthanize myself with Nyquil now. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that jazz.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Ashley's Christmas Boys

I was going to share the out takes with you all, so you could see what a bizarre and complicated process goes into getting photos of the heathens these days, but I'm too tired to edit out the monograms on their pjs on more pics, so just imagine shot after shot of little kid darting away grinning and/or Big Kid doing strange things with his neck, shoulders and eyebrows.

I about had to beat some ass just to get the few shots that were halfway decent, it made for a lovely Christmas Eve family time.

P.S.--little kid has "e-bull" all over his little baby face in picture number 3, does he not? I know you see it too. The hair horns don't help.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Real Housewives of Atlanta

My sleep cycle was all messed up last night, probably as a result of my 36 hours in a sweaty coma, and I woke up at 2am and turned on the television, delighted to luck out on some "Real Housewives of Atlanta". Woo-hoo.

Wowzers. These ladies totally prove that money can't buy you class or good hair.

And this one:
thinks she's 29???

Maybe in drag queen years. Either that or she's forgotten about a decade and a couple of dozen Botox injections.

Luckily the 2 episodes I watched were followed up with the tell all, group interview show where they threatened to beat each other up, revealed that the tranny above wears a wig and accused each other of being talentless (so true).

Only in Hotlanta. It was worth being up until 5am for.

I think they should move the Hotlanta ladies in with the OC ladies. THAT would be a reality show worth watching.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Hey Look

Big Kid is on the Gabba Friends fan site!

We both follow them on Twitter and I shared that pic with them a while ago and then forgot all about it. He recently asked if the Gabba Friends site was part of the new You Tube ban and said that it shouldn't be since he is on there, and pulled it up to show me.

That's very cool and he's thrilled. Just thought I would share.

Edited to add: I just realized that the contest part is still valid, it ends January 1st. So vote for him!!

Guess What I Got for Christmas?

The flu.

That's right, I woke up Christmas morning puking up Thera-flu and nose spray. I made it through the boys opening their gifts, trying to be cheery while my head felt like it was going to explode from the sinus pressure, and feigning interest in unpackaging and playing with their toys with them.

By the time we made it to my parents' house, I was a shivering, foggy-headed mess. I laid in their 80 degree living room, wearing jeans, a shirt and a hoodie, covered in two quilts and begging people to put various throw blankets, jackets and other heavy items they unwrapped on top of my pile for warmth.

I had to have Mr. Ashley unwrap some of my gifts for me because I was too cold to poke my arms out of the blankets. (Maybe Big Kid was right about the advantages of a Snuggie?) I got awesome stuff too, my mom buys the best gifts, but someone could have driven a Mercedes convertible into the family room with a big bow and my name on it and I wouldn't have been able to muster up the strength to leave my cocoon of blankets.

I was asleep the second we finished unwrapping gifts and woke up shivering a few more times and hearing everyone having fun in the other room. I finally dragged myself up the stairs and fell asleep in the guest room until dinner was announced. I knew I couldn't eat the Prime Rib I was so anxiously anticipating, so I resumed my position on the couch and counted the seconds until it would be feasible to leave. Once the scraping of the forks stopped and the menfolk started up with "When I was in high school" stories, I begged to be taken home.

Once I got back to my own bed, I huddled underneath a mountain of blankets and shivered and sweated and ached and could barely tell the difference between my crazy, delusional dreams and reality. My jaw ached so badly I couldn't close my mouth and at one point I was dreaming that someone had shot me in the face and I was in the hospital. I would wake up covered in sweat, lying in a puddle and freezing, half heartedly trying to rearrange my blankets or find a towel to put under me.

Needless to say....it fucking sucked. BIG TIME.

I literally missed Christmas.

I also may have ruined our mattress with my non-stop hours of sweating.

Thankfully, my mom offered to watch the boys the day after Christmas while Mr. Ashley worked, so I was able to shiver and sweat and marvel at how my head felt like it was 500 broken pieces barely held together without little kid adding to the good times. This was the best gift ever. I don't even know how I could have done it otherwise.

I still have a splitting headache and my mattress is still damp, we had to put towels under the sheet just so I could sleep there last night.

I'm just glad to be halfway human again.

I think we should all just go ahead and do Christmas again, for my sake. It's only fair.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008


little kid is having a heck of a time not eating Santa's cookies.

Every few minutes, he circles around the kitchen table, stretching up on his tippytoes and looking around to see if anyone is watching.

I'll be amazed if they're all still there by bedtime.

I have a long night of wrapping ahead of me and I'm sick! Bedtime can't come soon enough...

I hope you all have yourselves a Merry little Christmas, and a stress-free Christmas Eve.

Christmas Fun

Santa's inbox--click to enlarge, it seriously cracked me up.

Christmas party in 1925--I spent way too long staring at this. I just think its neat. It seems like you can tell so much about so many of the individuals. (click to enlarge again)

A Cynical Night Before Christmas

The Real Santa is Kind of a Dick

Christmas Tree Through the Roof

5 Questions on the Origins of Christmas

Hopefully I'll be back today, but no promises. I spent all freaking month getting into "the spirit" and making all of these grand plans, spent all weekend cleaning my house, and here we are the day before Christmas with a messy house and a pile of unwrapped presents and two crying, whiny kids and the whole shebang is over tomorrow at midnight.

A Merry Christmas to All...

Monday, December 22, 2008


It would be inappropriate to meet little kid's daycare provider at the airport with a packed bag and a ticket to go with her to Indiana, right?

I mean...she loves him. Like, a lot. And he loves airplanes.

He could entertain her 1 year old.

I'm thinking it's a win-win.


Big Kid just introduced me to this guy:

I'm a tad worried about Big Kid at this point. There's quirky and then there's...I don't know what.


We've been awake for five minutes and little kid has had a time out and Big Kid is listening to that freaking song (which I do think may say "Razorblades"...I thought it was Ace of bass...).

I'm in for a long winter "break".

Friday, December 19, 2008

Winter Break

Those squirrels do look kind of dead. I bet that's the only way they captured that shot, found two dead squirrels and snuggled them up. When I first saw it, I wished I could find them and keep them as pets, but then I remembered my tendency to kill helpless newborn animals with my misguided attempts at kindness and decided they were better off on their own.

I know I've been MIA, I've successfully cut back on the internet in a major way and spent the weekend painting my new chicken coop and trying to get this place in shape before Christmas.

Now, I'm alone with the kids for THREE WEEKS. little kid will be going to daycare when his lady gets back on the 30th, but Big Kid is out until the 5th. Heaven help us.

Thursday, December 18, 2008


I am having an extraordinarily bad day. Instead of talking about it, let's look at this instead:

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Caramel Turkeys

Mr. Ashley's co-worker brought him a bunch of stuff from Peru and I just tried a caramel....which tasted EXACTLY like turkey. Any Peruvians around to weigh in on why on earth your caramels taste like turkey?

It makes me scared to try the rest of the candy.

I will though.

Party invite

THIS seriously cracked me up.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Getting Ridiculous...

A few minutes ago, Big Kid yelled out, "So, you ran ober my bike?" from the computer room.

Wondering how he knew (because I wasn't going to tell him until I knew whether it could be fixed or would have to be replaced), I asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm reading it on Twitter. You typed dat you ranned ober my bike. Did you?"

Oh. I didn't realize he was still checking Twitter, since he never mentions it. Now I know.

And now he knows that I ran over his bike...

The Googler

I just asked Big Kid how he found the website or You Tube video he kept playing The Song from and he said, "I dest googled it. How come you don't eben know dat?"

"You Googled it? Seriously?"

"Um, yeah. How else would I find anyfing? I dest Googled Yo Gabba Gabba. Dat's how you do it."

So I went in the other room and looked and he showed me how he went to Google and typed in "Yo Gaba Gaba" (He spelled it wrong, the shame) and selected one of the results and clicked around until he ended up on this video:

"You dest need to use da Google 'til you find DJ Wood. He's da guy you want. You know how to get to Google, right?"

Um, yeah, I do, I just didn't realize my five year old did. I shouldn't be surprised but still, it made it almost worth hearing that godawful song again.

I'm thinking it's time to look into parental controls for the computer. God only knows what he could find on Google.


Big Kid is playing that techno song again and I really feel that if I hear it one more time in my entire LIFE, my ears and eyes will start bleeding. Literally, it begins playing and I immediately can't think and have to stop myself from killing someone. I'm trying not to be a bitch about it, because it's not Big Kid's fault that he likes lame, annoying music, but damn. Damn, damn, damn, how many times can he listen to that same song?

Also, little kid has sprayed my kitchen cabinets with Febreeze (and the smell of Febreeze makes me want to vomit, I cannot stand the stuff) and while coloring, he found a marker in the crayon box (and I had just gone through and tossed out all of the markers before giving it to him, but apparently I missed a short blue one) and wrote all over his face AND one of his cute, retro rock shirts. All over it. A shirt I paid way too much for, way too many years ago, way too far away from here. So he's in trouble.

And I ran over Big Kid's bike earlier. It was no one's fault but my own (although technically, one could say the bike shouldn't have been there) and I'm feeling pretty bad about that.

Things were going great until I left to pick up the kids though....

Monday, December 15, 2008

He's a Shoe In

I know it's awful, but the video of Bush being attacked with flying shoes just cracks me up:

He is way faster than I would've suspected...and Secret Service is way slower than I would've expected.

Here's a game where you can throw shoes at him too.

Excuse Me

I know I'm MIA on you guys, but I had to do my regular volunteer hour at Big Kid's school and then I volunteered for an hour in their "Gingerbread Shop", where the kids can come shop for presents, and now I'll be making up those two missed hours of work with six hours of catch up work...how is it that it always ends up that way??

I'll be back though.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Equal Opportunity Kid

Today Big Kid asked why we don't celebrate Kwanzaa.

Because we celebrate Christmas, I told him, we're Christians.

"I'd rather do Kwanzaa," he replied.

"What in the world are you talking about? Why would you want to celebrate Kwanzaa? What do you even know about Kwanzaa?"

"I dest know EVERYFING about it, dat's all. I like it better because it has colors like orange and red and green and black, which is way better dan dest red and green. Dat's why," he spat out, clearly annoyed with me.

Interestingly, he's on his second black girlfriend of the year. Kency is his newest girlfriend. He says because when he puts his head down she pats it and because they sit together at lunch. I tried to say it was just a friend who was a girl but he told me no, she is really his girlfriend. I preferred Ahsiya. Her dad's a doctor and she never gets on warning watch.

I guess Kency doesn't know Sophia sends him home with at least one note a week that says "I love you" and has hearts all over it.

Oh the drama.

Perfect for Men, Women & Children

Big Kid is begging for a blue Snuggie for Christmas. I have pointed out that this is a completely ridiculous thing to want, that this is in fact a blanket with arms.

Big Kid: No, not arms. Sleeves, it has sleeves so your hands can be not in da blanket. It's a good idea. You can be warm all da time.

Ashley: It's a silly idea. You don't need that.

Big Kid: I do. It's perfect for men, women and childwens. I do need one, bad. Dat's what I want for Chwistmas, a blue one wif sleeves, one of da ones for childwens. It's only nineteen ninety nine.

Whatever. Santa's bringing a bathrobe instead. Luckily, it happens to be blue. I bought them for both boys as gifts for myself, because I'm sick and tired of seeing so much penis around here.

It's not as innovative as a Snuggie, but it will have to do.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Graffiti Artist

little kid got to my Advent calendar.

After much deliberation and shopping around, I decided to go ahead and get a nice one this year, although it was definitely a luxury purchase. But I'll have it for years, I thought, the beginning of a new Christmas tradition.

I knew little kid and candy didn't mix, so I bought two little Christmas trees and every night I put two little ornaments in the little drawer of the day. Of course, this plan went awry days ago when little kid's dinosaur started pulling down the trees, chomping ornaments and redistributing stuff back into the little drawers.

Whatever. I quit with the ornaments and switched to chocolates. One per day. Fine.

I just went to replace some missing drawers and noticed that someone (ahem) has drawn all over the advent calendar with a Sharpie. Turns out that 32 pack of Sharpies I was so thrilled to receive a couple of years ago turned out to be the gift that just keeps on freaking giving. THERE IS NO HIDING THEM. He has Sharpie radar, he always knows where one is.

I scrubbed it with a Magic Eraser, but you can still see the scribbles. little kid knew that he was in trouble as soon as I started walking over to the advent calendar, his face left no room for doubt as to who the guilty party was.

(and who else would do it?? Come on.)

So every year from here on out, I'll get to look at those faded scribbles and remember my misguided attempt at creating a tradition.

Need a Plan

Our dear Julia just reminded me of NLP: RD (New Life Plan: Rough Draft).

This plan was totally abandoned but DESPERATELY needs to be brought back. I do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT have my shit together lately. I'm kicking butt with work stuff, but slacking off on the house even more than usual.

We will put a new NLP: RD on the short to do list. It's fitting for the upcoming New Year anyway.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008


It was my lucky night tonight!

We had decided against doing a float, because it was too expensive and a big pain in the ass. Then we found out an advertiser was going to be in the parade, so we asked if we could walk alongside his float.

Well by the time we got there, my sales person (who is a gorgeous blond) and I were really not in the mood for walking miles. We eyed her convertible, and eyed the rest of the floats lined up, and then found a parade organizer and begged to let us stick the convertible in. She was hesitant, but we had this whole story about how the convertible was part 2 of the original float and we just looked so darn cute in our red and white striped knee-highs and Santa hats, that I don't think she had the heart to say no.

So we rummaged through my car and found a vertical, free standing banner and propped that up in the back. We found some balloons from an event we did last week, and I shyly approached H&R Block and asked if I could borrow some helium. We tied this balloon bunch together and to the car with a partially shredded foot of a ribbon I found on my car floor, pulled our Santa hats down over our ears, parked our Santa bags full of loot next to us (I sat perched in back like a homecoming queen....I was actually sitting on the stand for the banner so it wouldn't flip out of the back of the car) and rode through the parade in comfort(other than the metal bar in my butt) and style. It was great.

On my way home, I pulled out of a gas station and got pulled over almost immediately. I was truly clueless as to what I had done wrong, and slightly freaking out because I got a warning about two weeks ago for speeding. It was a woman, which worried me even more because many of them are immune to my charm. She asked for my license, insurance and registration and I asked what I did wrong.

"You pulled out into traffic back there."

"I did? Well, I came out of the gas station...I had plenty of room and time though."


"No? What do you mean? What's the exact rule or law about pulling out? I've truly never encountered this before."

"If you're pulling into 45 mph traffic, no one should have to slow down to accommodate you when you get on the road."

"Ever??? Wow. I always thought as long as I had a reasonable amount of space and planned on accelerating immediately, I'd be okay."

She looked like a hard ass and I thought I was in trouble. At this point I was still rifling through my glove box, with a pile of stuff in my lap, searching for my insurance.

"Ma'am, is that a beach parking sticker for 2006?"

"Yep, that's probably the last time I ever made it to the beach, and as you can see the sticker never ended up on the car. Here's proof of insurance from 2003. Here's a barf bag--wow, that had to be about 2002-2003. Look, I'm sorry. I've got it. I just drive the Mom-Mobile, as you can see. I just got back from working the parade and if you just give me a minute..."

"I just got back from the parade too. Are you going home?" I assured her that I was and she wished me Happy Holidays and a good night.

Big, huge sigh of relief from me. Although, I kind of doubt I did anything illegal. I'm super paranoid about pulling out, more so at night because oncoming lights scare me. I think she was crabby from the parade chaos and was like, "Fuck this bitch for making me slow down" and then realized that sitting there while I sifted through 7 years of documents to find proof of everything just wasn't worth her time.

Thank goodness. I'm ready for bed. My princess wave and perma-smile wore me out.

Procrastination Strikes Again

Although waiting to fill 250 goodie bags for tonight until today seemed like a good idea LAST night, it's not seeming like such a great idea now.

Monday, December 8, 2008


Do you all remember The Chore Whore?

Yeah, I know, we hated that bitch.

She's back though. She appeared over the weekend when I looked at the pile of gifts waiting to be wrapped and then looked around the house, which is bursting at the seams with toys and their pieces, and she said "OH, HELLZ NO you're not bringing more crap into this mess!!"

"But, I'm so very busy," I protested. "I'm doing so much for work. I don't want to spend any extra time cleaning up."

So being crafty like she is, The Chore Whore and I came up with a compromise and the start of a holiday tradition. The Week of Purging.

(Not puking, we'll work on getting skinny next year.)

Every day this week, we're getting rid of crap and you're invited to join us.

Get a box or bin and put it by the front door. Grab a garbage bag. Set your timer (at least 15 minutes per day, that is a perfectly reasonable and doable amount for all of us) and start throwing stuff away or throwing it in the charity bin.

At first it will be a little bit hard. Especially with the kids' stuff. You'll pause with an item and remember that your child still plays with this occasionally, or has had it for so long. Three questions:

1. Does it annoy you?
2. Will a toy with a similar play value be under the tree this year?
3. Are you sick of seeing this on the family room floor?

If you answer yes to any of the above, put it in the bin and don't look back. (It's best to do this when the kids are either gone or occupied.) The more you start putting in the bin, the easier it will get.

We have a million playsets that come with different little figures and my kids love the figures but the sets themselves don't get used that much--well, I'm keeping the figures and accessories and getting rid of the sets. Not my responsibility to keep all this shit united.

In fact, I'm throwing away all of our puzzles except for the two that have the pieces intact. I can't tell you the joy it brings me to throw those random little alphabet pieces straight into the garbage.

I did two large garbage bags and a big pile of charity stuff yesterday, and I will continue for 15 minutes each day, just a quick sort and purge. You can too!

Then when Santa and friends bring new toys and pieces to litter the house with, it won't hurt quite as bad.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Wall -E

Wall-E Bento Box

Dear God,

I get it.

I'm being punished for all of those mornings I crept out of a South Beach nightclub into the morning light with a repetitive beat stuck in my head and a smile permanently affixed to my face thanks to the drugs that made it all possible.

Honestly, I think getting my five year old to force me to listen to two techno songs over and over and over and over and over and over again for weeks on end eleven years after the fact is cruel and unusual punishment.

You know it was never the music I liked---it was the rock star lifestyle of hanging out in VIP rooms with celebrities....and the drugs didn't hurt either. It's called Ecstasy for a reason, you know. It takes drugs to make this crap sound good, you know.

While I was typing this (with bass thumping in the background), little kid got into the fridge and poured baking soda all over the kitchen. What did I do to deserve that? Is someone feeling a little crabby over the whole church thing? Or what?

Let's negotiate here. I'll try to stay away from VIP rooms and drugs (this is surprisingly easy when you become a 30 year old mother of two) and you expel all demons from little kid and get on board with this whole "personal relationship with God that doesn't involve church on Sunday mornings" thing I've been trying to work out here.

I'm going to go clean up the kitchen. How 'bout you go help those kids in Darfur, end the war in Iraq, and get Big Kid back on track with some real music, mmmkay?

Yours Truly,

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Closet Christmas

I'm trying to convince Big Kid into doing a variety show for you all for Christmas.

Keep your fingers crossed, he's working on his techno dance now.

little kid Meets Santa

The other night at the downtown Christmas lighting, little kid got up close to the real live Santa Claus for the first time that he remembers in his young life.

He was excited, but as we approached it was turning to shyness and uncertainty. I nudged him forward and he ran behind my leg and peeked out.

He watched tentatively while Big Kid perched on Santa's lap (for the first time willingly) and told him how he wanted Yo Gabba Gabba toys. Santa seemed perplexed, I don't think he's familiar with the awesomeness of DJ Lance and crew.

Finally, I asked little kid if he wanted to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas. I could tell he was truly conflicted between his fear of approaching this creepy looking guy and the fact that this creepy looking guy is responsible for his toy bounty Christmas morning.

Slowly, he walked up two of the five steps, bent forward at the waist and yelled "HOSSIES" and fled back down the steps and behind Mr. Ashley's leg, peeking out from behind him.

Santa looked up at me, confused and amused, as I confirmed that the mystery word shouted was "horseys".

"Oh, yes, you want horseys! We have lots of horseys at the North Pole this year!" Santa promised as little kid grinned happily, safely behind Mr. Ashley's leg.

It's always a surprise and disappointment that most kids don't like the Santa you wait in line to see. Our best Christmas card was with Big Kid at 1 years old, sitting on Santa's lap, screaming in terror, face red and wrinkled, mouth open in a bellow, Santa looking slightly scared too. Everybody loved that we used it, because almost everybody has one.

It's a pretty freaky concept. Not as bad as our possessed elf, but still, some guy who dresses weird breaking into your house on Christmas and leaving stuff after judging you all season--kind of tough for kids to swallow.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Poop soup

little kid just pooped in the potty...

And then grabbed the toilet brush and stirred it up, making a poop soup and sloshing it all over the floor, toilet and the side of the cabinet.

He was pretty pleased with himself until he realized that I flat out wasn't impressed. Or happy.

Creepy Christmas

I decided NOT to traumatize my kids in the name of fun with this creepy little bastard. I was going to use him as our Elf on the Shelf, but he's scary.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

No Snow

I'm so tired. I had a late afternoon/all evening tree lighting event I had to work at tonight. Of course, the ONE time I decide not to bring chairs, because every other time they provide chairs and someone specifically told me they had a "table and chairs" for me, there were no chairs.

BUT, I wouldn't have been able to sit any way. These people really liked balloons. Like a lot. So much that they kept coming back for more or needing 6 for siblings who couldn't be seen. They all preferred a particular color for their balloon and were willing to wait (stare at you) until one became available.

Unfortunately for me, since my helium tank probably weighs 100 lbs and dislocated one of my knuckles earlier in the day, the freaking tank ran out about 45 minutes in. It must have been leaking, I guess the guy wasn't kidding when he told me I needed a wrench.

Also unfortunately for me, I managed to ruin people's Christmas over my lack of free balloons. A few were a little grouchy about it, taking the free candy canes I offered reluctantly and asking if they could have uninflated balloons. As if it was my idea to lug around 100lbs of empty tank to and from this place for nothing.

Once the 300 candy canes were gone there was an hour left and the wind began to blow snow from one of the snow machines in my direction. For those unfamiliar with Florida's festive snow, it is soap flakes blown from street lights. I was freezing, my mouth tasted like soap, my hair was getting damp and I had chunks of soap all over my clothes.

I made the executive decision to leave about 45 minutes early. All good opportunities were pretty much done at that point, and I was near an edge and able to easily slip away. Plus--I had soap flakes all over me. Come on. That's just not right.

So all in all, not a great night. I was going to give you all some links, but I don't think I'm even going to do that. No offense, maybe tomorrow.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Black Friday Boycott

I've been haunted the last few days with all of the Black Friday stories I've heard.

A Wal-mart employee being trampled to death? Shots being fired at Toys R Us? For what? So we can get good deals on gifts to give to our loved ones to celebrate the birth of Christ?

I'm not his mouth piece, but this is NOT what Jesus would do.

I have decided that I am no longer participating in the madness of Black Friday. I didn't this year and I will not in future years. I cannot and will not support stores that advertise deeply discounted savings but only carry 4 of that item, resulting in animalistic behavior from shoppers desperate to get the deal.

Wal-mart offered "door busters" and they got it--2000 people busting a door and trampling another human being for the sake of inexpensive Xboxes and Barbie Jeeps. I hope the revenue from that $388 flatscreen was worth the life of that employee.

Sure, it's never likely to happen in my city. Sure, it can be a fun Christmas tradition--but there are others. Others that aren't celebrating and encouraging materialism, greed and selfishness. If I'm broke and can't afford as much stuff without great deals, then I have two options: 1. Less stuff 2. Smarter shopping.

Sure, it's likely to be as successful as my boycott of the library, but it's what I can do. Maybe if other people hold the same opinion, these stores will find a way to boost sales without risking the lives of consumers for cheap, made in China crap. They could stagger sales days, stock a reasonable amount of crap at a discount, concentrate on online sales...the list goes on and on. They can find a way that doesn't encourage standing in the cold in the middle of the night and maiming your fellow citizens for a $29 VCR.

Because I'm not doing it any longer. Even if it ends up costing me more.