Yes I am throwing it out. No, I do not have the missing piece. Not, I do not give two shits if I might later find it. Right, because no matter how campy tacky-adorable it is and no matter how cool it looks in my new blue back porch, I do not want someone’s glued or broken tchatchke in my life. If I need a hideous campy vase I’ll go to the so-called antique store and buy one from the other delusional hoarders – oops I mean dealers.
You were cute. NO, IT CANNOT GO IN THE HENHOUSE! Goodbye.