So, Coco and and I have been shopping at thrift stores since long before Macklemore donned his first flannel zebra jammies. In addition to offering up some cool stuff once in a while, places like Value Village are also treasure troves of the weird and wonderful, the strange and startling, the downright perplexing. Tchotchkes in particular can reveal an extent of taste, sensibility, and aesthetic heretofore unexplored by man: the realm beyond sad clowns and too-cute kittens. One could start a blog - or at least a Tumblr - just for the spectacularly ugly finds encountered while thrifting, but it's almost too easy a target and it wouldn't even seem sporting, so I never have.
Occasionally, though, we run across an artifact so singularly disturbing that it must be documented. Beware, though; this is not for the faint of heart; after this break lies madness.
Here's the artifact that caught my eye...
Its gaze held me in thrall...
Its claws were horrible...
But that face...
That face!
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