But for real, this weekend I was Indian gaming in Oklahoma. (Honestly, though, Cherokee Nation gambling doesn't have anything on Minnesota's Mdewakanton Sioux Community. Mystic Lake!)
Oh, I also visited my grandmother down in the sticks of Arkansas, where I learned that if I'd been alive during WWII and possessed a different lineage, I would've had a big ol' crush on my grandpa. Yowza! What a looker!
My family has loved freedom for a long time.Yeah... Something is so not right about what I just revealed... So. Not. Right.
But, um, moving on, my grandma also showed me some of my dad's old childhood books from the 1950s and, my-oh-sexism-my, did one of them catch my eye.
But besides deciding my grandpa was dreamy in the 1940s (hmm...it's still not sounding any less creepy...) and discovering I have the interests of an 11-year-old boy circa 1954 (well, except for the being attracted to your own family part...oh man, I'm calling my therapist now...), I also found out my grandmother's uncle was a master furrier. (Ahem, not a furry, mind you, but a furrier.)
Back in the 1930s when he was in business in San Francisco, he made my grandma a mink stole, which apparently was the hot sh*t back in the day. The thing about this stole, though, compared to some of the more polished and finished items he used to make, was its deconstructed details, like, you know, keeping the heads and paws (with tiny claws!) on.
My reaction was more along the lines of, "Holy effing sh*t. This is the coolest thing I've ever seen. Let me wear it. Now."
Eat your heart out, Diddy.Thanks to the awesomeness that is my grandma, I now own this. I can't wait to hand out Butt Paste while wearing this.
Unfortunately, my Butt Paste'n'fur escapade will have to wait as I am in Las Vegas for the week. I'm going for "work" (shady!), but will hopefully be spending most of my time practicing Golden Touch Dice Control. Anyway, long story
Wish me luck!