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Archive for the ‘Stupid Buy of the Week’ Category

Stupid Buy of the Week

Wednesday, February 27th, 2008

Welcome to a new series of mine that will document my most idiotic purchases. This is my new effort to curb my reckless behavior. I am a junk addict. I buy WAY too much crap that I will never be able to possibly use and most of it is just plain dumb. I must be cured eventually or there will be no room left in my house, my garage, my closets, under my parents’ house, under our rental, in my sister’s attic and all the other places where my crap is scattered throughout the universe. My stuff addiction must end.

So I’ve figured out a new way to cure myself. Public humiliation. Then I’ll write a book about my addition cure. Sell the technique to others and make millions—yeah! Yeah! I’ll be rich! Then I can buy anything I want!!! Oh. Right. A-hem.

This week’s Stupid Buy? Okay, so I’m in Target and I’m goin’ along lookin’ for new bath rugs and suddenly, I’m in the toy section and there’s a stuffed animal in my hands. It happened that fast. Totally scary. It said, “Buy me, Janet. You want me. I will soothe some deeply disturbed psychological part of you.” So I put the goddamned thing in my cart. Even though there were a cacophony of other voices yelling at me. “Don’t buy that stupid thing! What in God’s name are you doing, woman! You already have no room for your Ugly Dolls, where exactly are you going to put that?” Blah, blah, blah.

Not only did I have voices in my head shouting at me to put it back, my husband was there with an actual voice encouraging me to put it back. But since I’ve known myself forever and my husband for almost as long, I ignored us both. And Frank has little credibility in the Stupid Purchases Department. Especially when he holds the record for bringing home the Biggest Kitchen Appliances in the Universe in Multiples (two popcorn poppers, two crock-pots, two bread machines—big things always come in twos with him). And this day at Target I had to stop him from buying a ten-quart crock-pot. (Yet another crock-pot to replace the other two he’s bought in recent years. He’s searching for the perfect one.) But he’s another column. Back to me.

Short story, before I knew it, the stuffed animal was in my office at home. I had lost the battle.

Oh, maybe I should fill you in on exactly WHAT stuffed animal I recklessly and wantonly bought. You know that character in Shrek? The cat? The one Antonio Banderas voiced. I think the character’s name was Cat. See? I don’t even know the freakin’ character’s name and I bought a f**king stuffed animal in the shape of that dumb cat in that stupid movie. I don’t know why. Okay, obviously, first impulse was “It’s sooooo cute!” You know, those big eyes, cute face, the boots. I have no idea what the second impulse was because the first impulse won. But even I have to admit I sunk low on this one. I now own a dumb piece of material stuffed with polyester in the shape of a cat FROM A MOVIE no less. Nothing original for me. Strictly commercial. There are only 352,498,733 others in existence. Could I have found anything less interesting? I seriously doubt it.

Okay so I get home with it and I’m furious with myself. Not only did I feel like I had a total stupid attack, I finally got a really good look at my new purchase. It looks like it was sewn together by first-graders in art class. One eyeball is lower than the other, the nose… well, that’s just totally messed up. Looks like Karl Malden’s nose. I mean, entirely mutilated. The cat’s mouth is squished on one side; it looks like the cat had a fight with the sewing machine and the sewing machine won. One cheek is half the size of the other. One side of his head is flatter and smaller than the other. It’s a mongoloid cat. Quasimodo Kitty. Developmentally challenged. And I bought it.

At first I reasoned that I would leave it in the packaging and give it to a niece or nephew, some small child. That way I’d be saved. Or I’d bring it back to Target. As it so happened the rugs I bought at Target that day didn’t work in the bathroom the way I thought they would. So I had to bring them back, bringing back the cat would be no problem. Then, suddenly, I don’t know how it happened, but the cat was out of its wrapping and I was stuck with it. I was stumped. What part of me wanted the thing? Why didn’t I take it back? How could it possibly give me comfort?

Analysis (Have you noticed how analysis starts with the word anal?): Inner Child With A Credit Card. Bad, bad, inner child. I must not have had enough crap as a child. Not enough purchasing power. Not enough toys. Not enough education in the practice of self-restraint.

On the plus side, the cat’s fur feels really good. It is cute. And soft. And I figured something else out. Another key to the mystery of why I bought this stupid thing.

When I look at it, I hear Antonio Bandera’s voice in my head.

In conclusion, I believe I bought the inane stuffed animal due to: unresolved childhood issues, a fondness for soft things, a fondness for Antonio Banderas (who we hope is not soft) and a fondness for the cartoon character. Add a sprinkle of irrational behavior, a dash of hormonal imbalance and there you have it. Motive, opportunity, disaster.

Stupid Buy of the Week Price tag: $ 7.99 plus .66 tax = $ 8.65

On the Stupid Scale From One to Ten: I grade this buy as a five. I can still give it to a kid, it’s soft and cute and I didn’t spend that much on it.

Stay tuned. I will be cured.

©2008, Janet Periat (this is an automatic tag that I can’t seem to stop myself from adding no matter what I freakin’ write these days. Frank always wants to know why my shopping list has a copyright…)

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