For example these scissors weren't even featured, they were just used to open a package.
They're super cool. I want one. But they're small. And they're $33.00. F that. They're cute, but not $33.00 worth of cute.
That reminded me. One day a long time ago when I was in my early twenties I was at Joe's house in early evening in an area of the house that seemed designed for cocktail parties between the kitchen and large glass doors that led to a patio shaded by an arbor loaded with grapes. You could just reach up and pick them. Everything in the room is elegant, in the whole house, actually, and I mean everything every last detail; the natural materials wall paper, the fabrics, the upholstery, carpet and rugs, the painted walls, the lighting from lamps and the recessed lighting, the furniture, absolutely everything was carefully chosen for its quiet understated elegance and its harmony.
His wife was behind the bar. Also very elegant. Wife and bar. And smack in the middle of the marble bar top stood an oversized bright orange and blue candle of a cartoon Bronco football player that stuck out like a fierce sore thumb. I said to his wife, Randaval, "I hate cute things."
She laughed uncontrollably. When she could finally speak she said, "I know. I hate cute things too."
But there it was, that stupid ass Bronco candle. Why was it even there? Everyone loves Broncos, I get it. But not that.
"[Somebody who I didn't know] gave it to us."
"Oh."
Gross.
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