On our little Margaritaville retreat, we went to a store closing sale. Nothing gets the vultures circling like a BIG sign that says 60% OFF. Clawing and pawing through things that weren’t going to sell even if they were 90% off, we had to shake heads, roll eyes and point silently towards some of the incredibly stupid things this store had left to offer.
It’s not the poor store’s fault. Every store has it: the bits of crappy fluff merchandise that looks fine, or even cute, scattered throughout the store’s upscale offerings. However, when the good pickings are gone, the remainders loom frightening on the semi-barren landscape.
Still, we all walked out with bags full of crap that we don’t need, aren’t ever going to use and if you get a weird gift in the near future from one of the Shells, you know right where it came from–and it was probably touching the ground.
Mombshells 