The Excavation Continues

Have you ever wondered what your junk drawer says about your family? Oh, come on, you know you've imagined your biographers coming through your house and telling your adoring public all about how you lived your life, right down to the contents of your junk drawer! You do that, too, right? And people applaud?

[Yeah, well, clearly I have a lot of time on my hands.]

Anyway, today, dear readers, we examine the contents of the... COOPER JUNK DRAWER. What secrets lie within its crowded, cluttered contents? [My biographers always love alliteration.]

[Listen, you populate the voices in your head with whomever YOU want and I'll populate the voices in my head with whomever I want. Deal?]

Before we examine the contents of the COOPER JUNK DRAWER, perhaps we should specify that this one is the Officially Designated Junk Drawer. It does seem to resemble many of the drawers in the Cooper household, no doubt for some incredibly well thought-out reason.

It's not a very big drawer.

And yet, through some miracle of planning and persistence, it contained ALL of this inside of it:

What does this say about the Coopers, do we think? Let's go further in depth.

It appears that the Coopers are inordinately concerned about their hair.




The Coopers appear to have severely dry lips.


And to be concerned about halitosis.
Does this enormous stash of chewing gum in the junk drawer indicate that the occupants in the house sometimes grab a piece of gum on their way out the door instead of brushing their teeth? Why are a few of the pieces practically petrified? The mystery only deepens...

The Coopers appear to have some issues with keeping their papers organized and bound.

Note that we see binder clips, paper clips, staples AND a staple puller but no, I repeat NO, stapler. What does this mean? Was there a problem with the stapler? Or did a small child escape with the stapler, carrying it to the recesses of her room from whence it was never recovered? [My biographers love words like "whence."]

The Coopers appear to be concerned about their hearing. Is there a logical reason the ear plugs are kept inside the kitchen drawer? Is there ever screaming at meal time in the Cooper House? We want to know.

So, far, other than an abnormal obsession with personal hygiene (look at the two sets of clippers and variety of tweezers in this next photo) the Coopers seem like a fairly normal family.

But now things take a turn for the sinister. WHAT is with all of those screws? Can one safely say that the Coopers have more than one screw loose? [Hey, you biographers! Knock off with the puns, okay? And a little respect--is that too much to ask?]

And DUDE, how is it possible to have this many keys?

And buttons.

And outlet covers

And adhesives.

And boxtops?


And honestly, what's the deal with this home-made temporary tattoo? Would someone put that on a CHILD? I think this was for an adult --and what mature, self-respecting adult would wear a temporary tattoo?

I'll tell you, in my esteemed opinion as a biographer of thousands, what this drawer reveals about the Coopers: It reveals that they're CRAZY and not only that but that are P-I-G-...

[And this concludes the final episode of the Cooper UNauthorized Biography Series, brought to you by the unruly voices in Barb's head. She will now take her regularly scheduled medication and return you to your own well-ordered and temporary tattoo-less existances.]

[Last time I play THAT game...]