Hey gang! Big news! I have several items that I am selling through my website, sexcrazedspacehog.com, in an attempt to raise some money for my upcoming knee flushing operation. That's right: the litre of cola that has been sloshing around inside my leg since birth is about to be a thing of the past! In any case, here is a list of the items I will be selling. It is a veritable cornucopia, a king's feast of things I could apparently do without!
Technotronic Pump Up the Jams cassette single, tape unspooled, information on tape completely faded
The tape can easily be respooled, but the lost innocence this tape represents cannot! This item shall forever be linked in my memory with the day in 10th grade on which my high school gym teacher finally dumped me. I vividly recall furiously unravelling the tape in this cassette single while crying uncontrollably and screaming "I can no longer pump up the jams! My jams shall remain forever deflated!" I also have tapes from this period of telephone conversations between myself and my grandmother in which I tearfully pour my heart out to her while she grunts distractedly while knitting a sweater with Lyle Lovett's face on it. These tapes, however, will be housed at the Darren Springer Archives at Cornell University, just as soon as they agree to establish the Darren Springer Archives and stop sending me cease-and-desist letters.
Comb with teeth glued on
This comb is a souvenir from the day I attempted to assassinate both President Clinton and President Garfield. The latter task was ruled unnecessary when I checked a history book, which confirmed that President Garfield had died in 1881. Heartened by the fact that my to-do list was half finished without me lifting a finger, I headed to Washington, D.C. and waited for his motorcade. I managed to gain a fairly clear shot, only to find that the gun I was packing was not in fact a gun, but rather a large bag of BBQ Frito-Lays. Rather than being vilified that day, I was instead heralded as a national hero by President Clinton, who awarded me the Presidential Medal of Bitchin' Taste, an honor he made up on the spot. Anyway, I stole the comb later that day from Secretary of State Madeleine Albright after seducing her with several shouted and incoherent Spanish phrases I once heard in an ad for Vanilla Dr. Pepper.
Rubber plunger, minus stick
I removed the stick from this plunger so I could play a game of stickball with some youthful scamps in my neighborhood. Little did I know that the youths in question were actually middle-aged teamsters in short pants posing as children in order to incapacitate and rob me of the eight cases of Lik-M-Aid I kept in my front satchel. They worked me over from stem to stern for eight minutes, cruelly ignoring my pleas to continue for another five. To this day, I can't look at a package of Lik-M-Aid without feeling a pang of regret that I was unable to prolong their brutish, indelible thrashings. In all seriousness, if you are lucky enough to have a Teamster in your life, hold them tight to your fruitful bosom!
Anyway, here's the loot. Send me your best offers. I'm not entirely sure when I'll be able to send you this stuff once ordered, since I am currently recuperating in the hospital from a fairly severe thigh accident, in which my thighs crashed at high speed into the thighs of a local accountant.
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