Give it Away Now? Funny.

Being generally employed first-world citizens, Bob and I have accumulated a large quantity of stuff.
Some of it is important or valuable or useful.
Some of it has sentimental value.  At least, it has lingering guilt attached to it, such that if we get rid of it, we feel that we will be haunted by the person who gave it to us.

Whyyyyyyy did youuuuuu give away my doiiiiiiliiiieeeeeeee????

A lot of it is crap.

Every now and again, we go through our stuff and get rid of things we deem to be "crap".

 

This tattoo is crap.

There are three levels of crapdom.

 

Crapdom propooganda.

Level 1: Not so crappy crap
This level is stuff we like, but don't use.  Perhaps a friend or family member might be able to provide a caring home for this crap.  Or we might make a couple bucks in resale.

Especially if we advertise like this.

Level 2: Kind of crappy crap
This level includes those things that may serve a purpose but are not worthy of sale or of giving to someone we actually know.
These things are donated or given away for free.

Another testament to the power of advertising.

Level 3: (Almost) actual crap
Do not judge me too harshly yet.  We do not have any actual pieces of crap among our stuff.  Although I did walk into the bedroom the other day to find two little turds, right there on the floor, courtesy of my dog.  Thanks a lot for that, Pax.
Nay, this level includes things that no longer serve a purpose to us or anyone else in the world.  They must be relegated to the garbage.

 

Yikes.

This particular episode of crap culling deals with Level 2 crap.  Specifically, a futon from Pax's room that we want to get rid of in order to move some furniture around.
It's not a bad futon.  It's fine.  But we are no longer university students and none of our friends or family will want it at this point in their lives.  We prefer to rest our bottoms on a couch, and sleep on a bed, and have no need for multi-functional items that don't really fulfill either function well.

You think you're good at everything...but you're good at nothing!!

So we decided to donate it.  Unfortunately, when the donation truck came, they didn't want it, even though I had made sure to confirm that they would take it.  Nope, at game time, El Futono was left sitting on the bench.

 

Why you no want me?

Our next plan of action was to give it away for free on kijiji.  Bob dragged the sucker outside and I put up an ad.

Hours passed.

The futon sat, untouched.

But why?

Bob asked what I wrote in the ad.  He began to wonder if I had followed his instructions of "Put 'Black Futon.  Free.'"
I told him I had elaborated somewhat, in order to maintain truth in advertising.
Bob became skeptical that my ad was effective.

You can read it and decide for yourself...

"Free- futon. Black metal frame, black mattress.
Decent condition, as comfortable as one might expect a futon to be. Especially a free one.
Our dog has been sleeping on it- we vacuumed it but it probably has dog hair and peanut butter residue on it, if you are allergic. Non-smoking household.
Out front of our house. First to come and get it is the grand futon winner. Be sure your vehicle can accommodate it and that you can load it- the mattress is awkward and heavy.
When it is gone I'll take the ad down."

Bob laughed at this ad, claiming that it made the futon sound like Level 3 crap. I disagreed.  I SAID it had been vacuumed.

Bob says people will envision the futon looking something like this.

We joked that for every day it sits out on the front step, we should add to the listing.

"Now- with bugs!"
"Slightly mildewed."
"Comes pre-soaked."
"An excellent home for a family of raccoons."
"You'll have to chase Homeless Joe off, unless you'd like to keep him as part of the deal.  Also free."

 

Homeless Joe actually has a home.  Our futon was just THAT inviting.

I'm pretty sure that after a week, I'll have to field hundreds of requests for this gem.  It'll have been upgraded to Level 1 crap!!!  Maybe even...dare I say it...not crap at all???

 

Nah.  It's definitely crap.

Moral of this story: Let Bob write the ad.

Adult Entertainment? Funny.

Our social lives have adjusted somewhat since having a child.  It was inevitable- she's not like our dog Pax, who we can put in a room with a rubber tube full of peanut butter, leave him alone for 8 hours and the worst he'll do is pee on the floor.  Apparently babies aren't supposed to be left alone at all.  Talk about high maintenance.

Bring me more of this vintage, wench.

We also value our sleep more than we ever realized, so late nights are generally a thing of the past.  I am told that at some point, my kid will sleep 10 or 12 hours, straight, but at the moment, that is but a whisper of a dream...

Please.  For the love of God.  Please sleep.

So, we don't get out quite as much, and when we do, our outings are any combination of the following:
Solo,

Yeah.

Short,

Avec Bebe

or the more rare, Sans Bebe.

Tuesday night we enjoyed an evening out, just the two of us, thanks to my parents.  We were told upon our return that our delightful infant is basically devil spawn, but such are the hazards of volunteering to watch a (our) baby.  She does what she wants, when she wants, and if you don't accommodate that arrangement, she will let you know by screaming until she runs out of breath and gags.

We're sort of used to it.  It's actually kind of funny sometimes.  But then you feel sort of bad that you're chuckling while she gets increasingly red in the face and sputters and coughs and resumes her rage.

Sort of.

Anyway, we got to go out.  It took a while to decide upon our activity for the evening- with the luxury of time and the lack of limitation, what would be the best use of our freedom?

We may make a life, but it will never take our FREEDOM!!!

...oh wait.  Yes it will.

We reviewed our social activities from the pre-baby days, and realized that a great many of them included beer and friends.

 

 The best things in life.

So, we ventured out to trivia night at Broken City to join some friends who go every week.  They have a long-standing record of victory and we didn't want to cramp their style, but we were graciously accommodated.

Trivia night at Broken City- called Quiz Shoe, for reasons that I can only guess at, including that there is a shoe on the trophy- is an evening of excitement.  Intrigue.  Frivolity.  Table-banging, contestant-heckling, wheel-spinning enthusiasm that showcases the state of adult entertainment today.

This...

Not this.

I am warmed to the cockles of my heart to find that a large group of fully grown, functional humans will get together to see who can out-nerd whom.

The very COCKLES, I say!!!

And I am pleased to report that it is WE who can outnerd them all.

I feel that the person who made this can probably outnerd everyone.  One donut to rule them all...

Moral of this story: Never, ever round pi in front of a group of engineers. It's irrational.