When I was a little kid, my mom was a school teacher in the Bronx. She would always complain about how my father didn't make enough money, and her pay was better when she worked up in Westchester in 1962. To ease her anguish she would supplement her income via Munz in Teaneck, NJ. There she would buy the most amazing assortment of trash you have ever seen only to turn around and 'peddle' it to her coworkers at a 250% markup. "What you don't want a fake Louis Vuitton purse at $100? Go see what a real one will cost you!" Back then either because I was too bored to stay at home or I really wanted a fake Voltron, I would join her on these pilgrimages. Occasionally she would buy me some stuff to sell on the playground at school. You really don't know the value of a dollar until you try to sell a 3rd grader a fart machine (batteries are extra).
4 comments:
Wait a second that purse was fake? Your mother has a lot of explaining to do. To think I traded sex for the money to buy that!
Ha! Good one, Lewis!
Barry-
I had a fart machine and wasn't pleased with the audio quality. Sounds kinda like someone farting into a cellphone. I much prefer the more organic sound of the Whoopie Cushion
i always thought dan hirsch was the fart machine
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