My Purse is a Black Hole

My purse is always a mess. No matter how many times I clean it, my purse continues to attract and accumulate the inexplicable. It’s like a black hole of weird, random crap. In the past, I have recovered a pile of poker chips, a rotten pear, a German man’s credit card, five pairs of sunglasses (at the same time), handcuffs, a small shell collection, a large pocket knife (not mine), a bra (okay, mine), a chewed piece of gum wrapped in a $5 bill, a mixed tape from 1998, and so many more knickknacks and oddities that I’m too embarrassed to admit. Continue reading “My Purse is a Black Hole”