There's spending money, blowing money, and then there's wasting money. Spending money involves such mundane things as house payments, groceries, and various and sundry bills. Blowing money, although it pains me to admit it, covers things like yarn and books. Necessities of life, but things that can wait a few mintues.
The third category, waste, is one into which many things fall. The light-up spinning Statue of Liberty sold by a certain Monster Mart is one, and I'm sure you can think of many more. The problem is, waste is so darned fun! How many times have you seen an item that you KNOW is a waste of money, only to be sucked into buying it because the "ludicrous" factor inherent in its very existence is high enough to create a rudimentary form of entertainment just by owning it. Case in point: last night.
Himself and I have been cautious about our cash flow lately. Layoffs and family expansion packs will do that to you. Nevertheless, we were sorely tempted to buy... a movie. It's called Black Sheep, and has got to be one of the most bizarre pieces of footage ever commited to DVD. Being a fiber freak, anything sheep-related usually catches my interest, but this particular item was weird enough to bring Himself and I back to the display rack three times in one trip. It was the cover that reeled us in. A psychotic-looking sheep gnawing on the ear of a bleeding, wide-eyed victim.
Kinda sucks you in, doesn't it? Wait'll you hear the tagline. "Mutant flesh-eating sheep run amok in rural New Zealand." Catchy, eh? We made a pact that if ever this thing hits the dollar bin, it would come home with us. What kept us from taking it home that night? Shear, ahem, sheer willpower, let me tell you.
Besides, I happen to know that one terrible fourteen-dollar movie equals one great ball of sock yarn.