I'm a big fan of thrift stores. Somewhere around 85% of the t-shirts I own were bought secondhand. In fact, at any given time I am usually only wearing about $7 worth of clothing. I once wore a suit I bought at Goodwill to a job interview. Anyway, let's just say I know my way around a secondhand goods store and I've seen some pretty awesome shit. But last week I came across something that completely blew my sack backwards.
To fully grasp the magnitude of what happened, it's important to point out that I live in Lakewood, CO. It's an ordinary, if unspectacular, suburb west of Denver. If you don't live there, the only reason to see it is if you're driving past on your way to Breckenridge. About 3 blocks from my house there's a Disabled American Veterans Thrift Store. It's a shitty white brick building sitting 50 yards off the main road hidden behind a McDonalds and one of those Payday loan check-cashing places.
Close your eyes and picture it in you mind if you need to. Or look at this photo:
So I went cruising in there the other day in search of shirts with dates on them. I have a weakness for that sort of shit. If I see an old yellow t-shirt with a picture of a leprechaun that says "St Peters 2nd Annual Bingo Night - April 27, 1989," I have to have it. I just like the idea that 20 years ago some brilliant bastard thought it would be a good idea to mass produce t-shirts for such a meaningless bullshit event. Moving on.
I didn't even get past the front door before I was forced to go back to my car and get my camera:
English a must. Spelling optional.
Moving on again. This particular thrift store had an amazing selection of framed paintings and photos covering the shelves around the interior of the building so I walked around and admired them like the art aficionado that I am:
Velvet. Fucking. Horses.
Knitted. Fucking. Whales.
Fighter jet soaring past God-related poem.
Sad Jesus. Boooooooo.
Laughing Jesus. YAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!
Warren Holloway. "The Catch"
Triumphant unicorn galloping through 3D universe
WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA LET'S BACK THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND HERE.....
Warren Holloway. "The Catch"
Well, fuck my $2 pants. I'm standing there staring at a signed, numbered, framed photo of Warren Holloway and The Catch......in a thrift store........in Lakewood.
This is preposterous, I demand an explanation.
Why in the world would anyone get rid of something like this? It's not like they're listing it on Ebay. They simply gave it away. They drove to the back door of this shithole building and tossed it in the donation bin along with a garbage bag full of velour flares and Hypercolor t-shirts. Who the fuck does that? What possibly could have been the motivation? There has to be a logical reason. Here's the only scenarios I could come up with:
- A woman. They ruin everything. His girlfriend from Ann Arbor told him to get rid of it, so he sold his soul for steady wolverine pussy.
- Religion. Also a ruiner of all things fun. Maybe he joined a church that disallows football. Or possibly minorities.
- Relocation. Due do a failing economy, he moved from a 3500 square foot home into a medicine cabinet and could only bring his toothbrush and one pair of underwear.
- Replacement. He got another photo of Holloway except three times as big and awesome and decided he didn't need them both.
- Personal Vendetta. He recently discovered that Holloway banged his mom in a Burger King restroom.
Whatever. Fuck that guy. Guess who's the new proud owner of a signed, numbered, framed photo of Warren Holloway.
It was either that or this gem that I found on the shelf next to it:
Awesome.........but not $80 awesome.