It felt really weird not posting on Friday after doing it everyday for a month, which probably explains why I'm posting this at three in the morning on Saturday. Snoop around and you'll notice a Halloweenified sprucing-uppage to a couple of the blog graphics; I spent most of the night doing that, and now that it's up, I ask myself: "It took all night to do that?"
We went to Target tonight, because this is what twenty-somethings with lives and worlds that are their oysters do on Friday nights: They go to Target. Along with a few other things that I must force myself to hold off on writing about, I found the four awesome monster finger puppets seen above in their party supplies aisle. It was like, Dora hats, Disney-Pixar Cars blowhorns, Shrek paper plates and then BAM, rubber monster finger puppets from Hell.
I'm not one to bust a nut over thirty cents, but it bugged me that the things were priced at $1.29 each. I would've felt so much more triumphant about my purchase if they were a buck, because that's what things like this are supposed to be: A buck. You're supposed to look at these, know you don't need 'em and buy them anyway because they're "just a buck." At $1.29 a pop for the four puppets, I paid over a dollar more than I was comfortable with. I could've used that dollar. In a perfect world, I could've used that dollar for a fifth rubber monster finger puppet.
But, as the kids like to say these days whenever they're feelin' sassy, "whatev." They're great little toys, full of pleasant plasticky scents, colorful paint jobs and horrendous faces. Scoring the four, I can't tell if they guy on the upper left is the most normal of the bunch, or if I'm just assuming he is because he's the only one with two eyes that are the same size. I probably like the black skull on the lower left best, if not for the painstakingly detailed pink stitches under his mouth, then for the fact that I keep thinking he's a gorilla even though he hasn't a single gorilla-like feature.
Most points for creativity goes to the ghoul on the upper right, appearing to be some sort of ugly albino who messily eats blue magic markers. He looks indignant, and he should, because there's a fucking earthworm crawling out of his eye socket.
Thank you, Target. If my fingers could actually fit into the baby hand-sized holes on the back of the puppets, I'd manipulate one of them to compliment you on your parfum.
This doubles as your all-day Saturday thread, which turns into the Saturday Night Thread, and maybe potentially possibly even the little-seen Sunday Morning Thread. Enjoy.
Posted by Matt on 09/02/2006. E-mail me!
Chestnuts roasted by 
” this is what twenty-somethings with lives and worlds that are their oysters do on Friday nights: They go to Target.”
Story of my life.