6
Jan
2019
0

Junk Mail

Ok it’s beyond ridiculous to me that since we no longer really need the postal mail, we are now being inundated with junk mail to make up for the letters we no longer write.  I am as much a fan of the Victoria’s Secret catalogs as the next guy….maybe more.  But when I have to filter through all the Sears catalogs to get to them something is lost.  I ordered a wig for my Mom 15 years ago from the company named ‘Paula Young’ and since then they have sent me one full sized oak tree worth of catalogs!  Non-living.  I get at least one catalog per week from them, even though I have called many times and tried to stop it.  It’s gone on for so long I actually feel like if more than a week goes by and I don’t receive one, I’ll be totally out of the loop when it come to the latest in wigs and wig related fashions!  Which makes me wonder why a company like this would feel a need to send out so many catalogs.  Seriously, wigs have not changed since….since……wigs have never changed!  If you put on a woman’s wig you instantly look like a USO Girl off to entertain the troops. Or The Chesterfield cigarette lady getting ready for her live TV spot where she’ll teach us about the yummy full flavored goodness that is lighted tobacco wrapped up in paper!  That’s Chesterfield: “Blow some my way”. Can you believe that was actually their slogan?  Yikes.  Yes blow some of that Chesterfield smoke all over me so I can have that good smoky smell with me all day long.  Anyway, as far as fashion goes all of my mom’s wigs to me just looked like fancy hornets nests sitting on her head.  And man they were itchy!  That’s right. You don’t go a lifetime watching your Mom hide her true identity every morning by centering herself under half a coconut shell, and not give it a shot yourself one day while she’s in the shower. I took a look in the mirror but all I could think of was how itchy it was….well, that and how sexy I looked once I got the lipstick on but still, very itchy.  Come to think of it that was also the first time I ever saw her without the wig.  I’d tell you about it but I feel like I would also have to lie down on the couch and pay you $150 per hour.  That job is taken, and ten sessions of it didn’t burn the trauma out so why would I think you could help?  I think I invented the phrase ‘Wigged Out’.  I don’t suppose it did a lot for mom to see her 8 year old son in a wig and lipstick either.  She picked me right up and sat me on the bed, which was nice cause those heels were killing me!  I’m sorry, we were talking about the mail weren’t we?  I’m afraid I’ve lost interest in the subject.  I think I need a hug.

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