Sanford & Son. And Daughter.

How can one person acquire so much crap. Thank god the yard sale is Saturday - my living room is so Sanford & Son, I can barely move. Hel-loooo, fire hazard. All I can say is I better make a buttload of money. Doesn't even have to be a Kardashian buttload. Just an average buttload would be fine.

If I were to do an inventory, I think it would be really horrifying. Consider this:
15 random purses
5 pairs of sunglasses
100+ CDs
200+ CD mixes. You're welcome, America.
30 pieces of random UNC paraphernalia (hats, Tri-Delt t-shirts, etc.). Knowing my luck, a giant Duke convention will be in town and none of that will sell. Who are we kidding - as if Dookies hit garage sales.
25 random sheets and pillowcases
20 random towels
VHS tape that makes your TV into a fireplace
VHS tape that makes your TV into an aquarium (um, these are awesome and I'm very sad to part with them)
Blender
Pink Schwinn (hey, that's my bike)
Moccasin boots (why god why)
"Gently used" make-up (sadly, someone WILL buy this)

And the list could go on. And on. And on. I can't get the Sanford & Son theme song out of my head. You're welcome again, America.