There's a certain kind of person out there who reveres a moldy
old dishwashing sponge as if it were the Holy Grail. It's the same
kind of person whose walls are covered in a thrift store trove of
velvet clown paintings. Whatever it is, what started as minor
addictions and small bits of manageable clutter, soon becomes a
mountain of every "Life" magazine ever printed that blocks your
a...
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