my mother is starting to do creepy old lady shit like this:

This is some classic old lady shit. You know what I mean? Something like this would not have interested her in the least even 10 years ago; 20 years ago she would have made fun of the old lady who hung it on her front door. The only time we ever hung anything on the door when I was a kid was at Christmas, and there were never any disembodied animal heads on the wreath.

Other danger signs include polyresin garden gnomes — so far just one, but those fuckers proliferate when you’re not looking — and occasional viewing of Wheel of Fortune. I am firmly of the opinion that that show causes senility.


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