Gimme A Break, Lola.

On Friday I told you about the first time I saw Lola, busty queen of gold lamé. I ended that story where I did because Lola’s triumphant last word always brings a smile to my face. But none of us are saints, least of all Lola, and as things turned out I was only to see her colorful flair grace my checkout a handful of times before it would be the last time.

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Wurst. Steakout. Ever.

So I was absent-mindedly browsing the other day, because addiction is a terrible thing, when I saw this.

Here’s what scares me: until I noticed the broken glasses and the severed finger, I didn’t immediately realize it was from a Photoplasty contest. I just assumed some dude was actually selling questionable meat on Craigslist, because Craigslist.

Look, I found a real buyer for your fake ad! Just add freezer burn and he’ll take it, NQA.

But also because I used to work in a grocery store. And I know things, people. Things I can never unknow.

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