‘A few souls short of a spiritomb’ is a colloquial Sinnohan expression used to refer to a person who is unintelligent, especially if said person is nefarious.
On a similar note, “one egg short of an Exeggcute” refers to a disorganized individual in Kanto. In Alola, the phrase is used to describe an unbalanced group – sort of like “too many cooks in the kitchen.”
you should have offered them four 12×12 squares and a bottle of glue
As hilarious as that is…
… we’re out of glue.
Completely out of glue. The glue slime trend that has swept the middle schools in our area has maxed out all outlets of glue from December 18th to today’s date- February 6th. We keep getting shipments of glue, but they only come in 20-bottle boxes and they are completely gone by the time the weekend is out. Children are buying them by the armful.
And I would find this cute and honestly amazing that these kiddos are getting their first taste of entrepreneurship (mine was in high school, where I made novelty school ID’s) if it weren’t for the involvement of the parents.
Because the kids are like ‘aw, you don’t have any? Ok. We’ll try somewhere else- thank you! Where’s your glitter?’
The parents… oh gods the parents.
Calling us up at 9am- “What do you MEAN you don’t have any glue!? ITS A BASIC CRAFT ITEM! YOU HAVE TO HAVE GLUE!”
“You’re telling me that you DON’T CARRY GLUE?”
“I’m calling your corporate office to tell them just how wholly unprepared you all are because this is the fourth store I’ve called and NONE of you have any glue.”
“Can I pre-order? What do you MEAN I have to order from the website?”
“When will you be getting more? You don’t KNOW! HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW!? Two weeks at the EARLIEST!?”
“Can you call me when you get some? YOU CAN’T EVEN CALL ME WHEN YOU GET IT IN?”
I once caught one of our framers taking a call like these and I saw her re-inact Winona Ryder’s entire range of facial expressions a la SAG awards, eventually ending in her left eye going slightly wall when the angry parent finally hung up.
And there are some that call every single day, asking the same questions and hoping that they’ll get a different answer. But no. I’m sorry. The Glue Fairy didn’t make a surprise visit last night. We did not plant the glue seeds in time for the harvest and now there is a glue famine. The small child that we sent to fetch more glue has been captured by witches- who are now intent on raising her as their own and we wish them luck.
One day, my brother will have children and they will ask me about the Glue Famine of 2017 and I will recall a very specific instance wherein I could feel flecks of spittle coming through the end of the phone.
One day I shall die and a team of necromancers will raise me from my crumbling sarcophagus and the very first words from my revived, husk of a maw will be ‘WE ARE STILL OUT OF GLUE, CRETINOUS FILTH!’
And this is how I knew that 2017 was going to be a bad year. Retail-mancy: I divine the fall of our nation by the fact that we are perpetually out of basic adhesives. And its not the children that buy them that make it a problem, but the parents who imagine that we somehow have control over the entire damn glue industry.
Why you want to yell at me for telling you the truth is beyond me when you could be putting all that energy towards not sucking. GIT GUD.
I just learned today that tomorrow our store will be hopping on the glue slime trend and making an end cap to make easy access to our stock of glues, glitters, and I suppose we might be adding borax to our inventory.
Need I remind you that this is what our glue stock has looked like for the past two months:
We just got some in two days ago and its already gone.
So you have to imagine the position we’re in here- where we’re advertising glue that does not exist for more than three days every two to four weeks because of these tots are hell-bent on selling slime to their sandbox buddies.
We’re not selling glue. We’re selling the concept of glue. We are selling the desire for glue. We are inspiring others to covet the glue we do not have. The glue is unknowable. It is invisible, intangible, ineffable. One day the glue uprising shall be upon us, and none shall speak its name.
So like just in case you didn’t get the message-
We are out of glue.
Glue we are out of.
Out of glue we are.
We glue of are out.
Because the dozen or so rows where we used to stock our glue is now a gaping cavity of woe, our heathen customers have decided that this is the perfect space to lazily put things that they just suddenly decide they don’t want anymore. And for some ridiculous reason, the most popular thing to leave where an associate can find it is fake flowers.
Not even the first time this has happened, people. People are attempting to build a memorial to the glue that was, and will never be again. The time of glue has passed, we shall remember it fondly. Ashes to ashes, goop to goop.
Rest in Particulate, Glue Aisle.
Its about to get…
…significantly worse.
I’ve had several people contact me about an email that went out from our company, advertising Glue Slime and giving out a recipe (instead of borax, using baking soda and contact lens solution… I weep for our local optometrists). Luckily, we were sent a large ration of glue on Thursday in preparation for the endcap that we just put up.
And for a moment, the balance was restored. We could rebuild! There was enough glue to fill the dozen or so places in its home and have a good amount for the display. Sadly, we were only given a few bottles of clear glue- which is the one that people really want because…. clear slime. But things were looking better!
But little did we know…
… President’s Day was coming.
And the children… needed something to do…
Here is a photo of the display on Saturday morning.
And here it is on Monday morning:
They have ravaged our glue surplus to 1/10th. The glue that filled its home space is completely gone. I am honestly surprised that the meager 40 bottles we have left are still there, and by the time I finish writing this- they may not be.
Why would you do this to us, Mr President?
So while we have those 40 bottles, we can at least fend off the screaming parents, but I anticipate that a considerable amount of screaming will have already started by the time I start my shift this afternoon.
I shall scream as well.
I scream, they scream- we all scream into the yawning void of the glue section in hopes that the Elmer, God of Cheap Adhesives, will hear our cries and grant us the glue we so desperately yearn for. We shall be united in our despair.
We have reached a place in our glue stock where we are consistently keeping up with demand, more or less. We get it in on Wednesday, they all come in on the weekend and we’re out by Monday- giving people one day to bitch and moan because what would these people do if they weren’t allowed to scream at us for a whole thirty seconds?
Well, I came in to work on Wednesday and I found this at our customer service desk:
Look out world- we have the gallons!
People asked for the gallons of glue, they got the gallons of glue.
There were 20 of them on that endcap. I saw a woman buy three of them at once (and of course she wanted to use a coupon on each and every one of them because ‘gosh- who knew that glue would be so expensive!’ Like… lady- you’re getting this at 20 cents an ounce if you get it without a coupon. It’s not expensive, you’re just a cheapskate.)
By the end of Wednesday, they were all gone. We sold 20 gallons of glue in four hours. People were laying down $60 for glue. I could feel my Great Depression-raised grandpa shaking his head from…. I dunno, probably Purgatory.
Now the entire area knows that we have the glue gallons- the word has spread. But we don’t have them in stock and guess what emotions they have over it! If you guessed ‘anger’ then you’re right! So they do what they’ve always done when they need a literal gallon of glue and there are no gallons of glue to be had: they buy a ton of individual bottles.
But now knowing that there is an easier way to do this that is yet inaccessible to them fills them with ennui, and as they walk through the store their excitement over their hoard wanes and they put some of it back.
Now, any person of the retail-worker persuasion will tell you that a customer never puts an item back where they’re supposed to. That would be, frankly, preposterous. So instead, as they lose their grip on their desire for glue, they leave a single bottle where it is most convenient to them- a symbol of their defeat.
This is a fancy way of saying that I found a bottle of glue in every aisle one night because someone got pissy about not being able to buy it by the gallon and forgot to get a basket.
THE EPIC SAGA CONTINUES
how the fuck did we get from 12×12 squares of paper the the glue famine
No. It’s a very hurtful myth that, sadly, leads to the abandonment of many perfectly good Pokémon.
Now, Shedinja are a bit more mobile than their pre-evolution, so you may have to work a bit harder to keep away things you’d rather it not mess with (papers, favorite toys, food, etc.).
@knight-of-the-hokey-pokey I hope you don’t mind my adding on, but the source behind
the “soul sucking” rumor originates from a variety of stories in Western Hoenn.
Ghost types are known for their mischievous nature in general, and Shedinja
aren’t much different. The two big things that separate them from the other
ghost types are:
1) They’re exceedingly rare. You can’t really seek out wild
habitats for Shedinja, they don’t exist. Nincada are a mostly ground dwelling
species that every thirteen years evolve in mass. As in, out of nowhere it will
seem like thousands of Shedinja are seen rising out of the ground like some
form of zombie as the Ninjask flee from the scene at alarmingly high speeds.
This spectacle is often a major attraction to researchers, bug fanatics, and
curious onlookers in Rustboro when Route 116 “explodes” for the rare breeding
season. Many find it disturbing, eerie even; the sight, the noise, and the fact
that many of the other Pokemon in the area have been waiting for this too.
Those predators (usually Taillow) will be seen simply devouring these “cast off
shells” as an easy and hearty meal. As so, it’s no surprise that old legends
concluded that appearance of the Shedinja caused a sort of “madness” in
anything that looked at them. Turning into tales of people peering into the
darkness of their hollow and having their spirit (in the sense of the Guardians
of Spirit: knowledge, willpower, and emotion) drained away to leave the curious
as little more than a shell themselves after doing so.
2) They are exceedingly frail. Very little is known about
Shedinja due to being unable to study them in their “natural environment” because,
as stated above, they don’t have any real means to survive in the wild. A
single Peck or a Bite, Pursuit even, is more than enough for a predator to
bring one down for easy dining. Therefore, most of what is known about them
comes from finding people who’ve trained up a Nincada and is willing to protect
the often deemed dangerous Shedinja. But this is in a sheltered environment in
the hands of someone they trust. It’s hard to say what is or isn’t “normal” for
them.
Getting yours from a friend is a very good start as you know
what kind of care the Nincada has been getting as well as your Shedinja likely
already knows you and your team even if only through it’s former trainer.
However, a word in general, but being of the “prey mentality” of being recently
evolved, it might take a while for Shedinja to warm up to the rest of your
group. It doesn’t take long, just enough for it to realize you and your team
are not danger.
Citizen is simpler and more beautiful~ but just in case anyone needs this.
DUDE BUT THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL PEOPLE
in medieval times you ONLY addressed a king/queen with “Your Majesty”, NEVER “Your Highness”. To address a king/queen with “Your Highness” was considered an insult.
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