Available exclusively on eBay.
The winner of the Drive Someone Insane with Postcards auction finally broke the news to the mark, and was kind enough to give me permission to post the cards that went out. They were mailed from various locations in Poland and Berlin.
Postcards: 1995 premiere of Central Park West on CBS, the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, Albert Einstein, Fresh Radio (Ireland), city of Krakow, city of Poznan and a restaurant in Berlin.
The auction was picked up by several media sources here in the U.S., and much to my surprise appeared on a popular Polish news website – where some commenters who didn’t quite get it eviscerated me, and others were nice enough to defend me.
Although the auction was for three postcards, the winning bid of $415 compelled me to send a few extra.
From the Didn’t Expect That department: I found myself standing outside in the freezing dark of rural Poland, chatting on my BlackBerry with NPR’s Linda Wertheimer about the Drive Someone Insane with Postcards auction. I’d forgotten how familiar I was with her voice. Back in the days when I had a car I was a regular NPR listener.
It was a fun interview, and even better – I got to plug my book.
Really interesting times we live in.
The Drive Someone Insane with Postcards auction got some airtime on Glenn Beck’s radio show yesterday. Glenn would be the first to tell you he’s got the #3 radio show in the country, and I expected a traffic increase as a result. During the interview we chatted about the tiny Polish village I’m going to and at the end I mentioned the auction’s title. That did result in a quick burst in visits, as expected, but nothing too crazy. After all, there wasn’t a link and finding it involved going to eBay and looking for it.
But then Glenn put it in his daily newsletter to his fans. WHUMP.
And then someone put it on fark.com, a site which I’d heard about before but wasn’t too familiar with. And WHUMP again. Apparently Fark is popular.
At the moment there are 72,000 hits. And in a manner very reminiscent of the time I sold my unfortunate leather pants it seems to increase at an absurd rate. In fact, it’s now closer to 73,000 and someone has raised the bid to $185.
And to think I almost didn’t list this auction because I thought no one would be interested.
Did I say 73,000? I meant 138,000.
You are bidding on a rare chance to traumatize a treasured friend or relative with baffling, mind-numbing, mystery correspondence from abroad.
Here is the arrangement:
I will be spending the Christmas holiday in Poland in a tiny village that has one church with no bell because angry Germans stole it. Aside from vodka, there is not a lot for me to do.
During the course of my holiday I will send three postcards to one person of your choosing.
These postcards will be rant-ravingly insane, yet they will be peppered with unmistakable personal details about the addressee. Details you will provide me.
The postcards will not be coherently signed, leaving your mark confused, guessing wildly, crying out in anguish.
“How do I know this person? And how does he know I had a ferret named Goliath?”
Your beloved friend or relative will try in vain to figure out who it is. Best of all, it can’t possibly be you because you’ll have the perfect alibi: you’re not in Poland. You’re home, wherever that is, doing whatever it is you do when not driving your friends loopy with international mischief.
Your target will rack their brains in the shower. At dinner. During long drives. At work. On the golf course.
“Who did I tell about the time I got fired by a note on my chair?” they’ll ponder, “And where the hell is Szczeczinek?”
But wait, there’s more.
To add to the sheer confusion and genuine discomfort, one missive will be on an original promotional postcard announcing the 1995 television premiere of Central Park West on CBS.
Another will be a postcard celebrating Atlanta’s disastrous hosting of the 1996 summer Olympic games.
Your mark will be at a complete loss, desperate for answers, debating contacting people he or she hasn’t talked to in years.
“I know this will sound weird,” they’ll say, “but by any chance were you in Eastern Europe ranting about cantaloupe… twelve years ago… right before some show with Mariel Hemingway debuted?”
When you decide to end the torment is completely up to you. If you can, I recommend owning up on 1 April 2008 – giving you nearly half a year of joy and a George Clooney-esque level of prankage. If you can’t hold it in that long, I totally understand.
Bid early and often.
Buyer should probably understand that on a few occasions the Polish postal system has proven itself to be somewhat lacking: Christmas cards have arrived on Easter and vice-versa. If not all cards arrive promptly, one may blame Poland’s communist past.
Sliced Meats = Empowerment
It used to be that if you wanted perfectly sliced meats and cheeses you had to go to a restaurant and pay some “professional” to expertly slice them and assemble them in a nice pattern on a plate for you.
Not any more.
Allow me to be your personal Tony Robbins, albeit with duller teeth.
I’m not just selling a used Chef’s Choice gourmet electric food slicer. I’m selling empowerment. I’m selling you the chance to change your life for the better. Assuming you don’t cut your fingertips off.
The fact is, when you slice your own meats and cheeses the world is your oyster.
This magical, wonderful, used electric food slicer takes the power from the cold-cut elite and gives it to you. What you do with that new power is your call. I suggest you slice meats and cheeses with it.
You’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Your dinner parties will have more panache. Your family gatherings more joie de vivre. Your plates will become assiettes.
If you’ve always wanted to serve Harrison Ford mathematically precise provolone, this is perhaps the greatest opportunity you will ever have to do so.
Whether you want to bring your fundraisers to a new level, or satisfy a grueling obsessive compulsive disorder, this used Chef’s Choice gourmet electric food slicer is quite probably what you’ve been looking for.
I hope you will seize this opportunity to empower your life with precision sliced foods and get this thing out of my cabinet.
Please buy my used Chef’s Choice electric food slicer.
Some people might ask what good a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard is.
Those people lack imagination.
Those are the kind of people who wouldn’t buy a car that lacked an engine. They’d forsake a book without pages. They’d probably toss out a perfectly good non-definition TV.
I’m not selling to those people.
I’m selling to the kind of person who wants a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard. The kind of person who thinks differently.
Apple OS Tiger, the fantastic operating system you won’t find on this iBook, is an intuitive and user-friendly operating system you just have to see for yourself some day. Just not on this 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard.
If you’ve used a Mac before, no doubt you’ve already fallen in love with Apple’s groundbreaking interface. You know why you love Apple and I need say no more – other than the guy at TekServe said this awesome iBook is broken.
If you’re a Windows user thinking of converting to Macintosh, this is a rare opportunity I hope you’ll take advantage of. For a presumably low price you can be the owner of a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard. Instantly, you’ll be a proud Mac addict who’s only a few expensive parts away from unleashing a maelstrom of creativity.
When you have a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard there are countless things you can’t do:
-Create your own weblog to let folks know your opinions on over-fishing, what you did for Lent, or how Tim hurt your feelings.
-Send everyone in your address book an email with 23 blurry shots of baby Tyler eating a grape.
-Write a nine act screenplay where someone who totally resembles you is the hero and gets the girl.
Armed with what was once state-of-the-art technology, the list of things you can’t do is limitless. You’re only restricted by your own personal creativity, zero storage capacity and whatever the motherboard needed to not die.
This iBook was 600 MHz. It may very well still be. What happens to the MHz when a motherboard departs this world is knowledge I do not possess. It’s got an Airport card that would let you connect wirelessly under better circumstances. The battery is actually brand new. The memory that was in it is still in it. Let’s say it was 512K. Maybe it’s 1GB. Not sure. My mind draws a blank, as does the screen.
The casing has several scratches and flaws, as will happen when you combine an active lifestyle with failure to sheathe electronics. But if you’re interested in a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard, you probably don’t care much about outside appearances. You see the bigger picture. Just not on the LCD screen of a 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard.
As the power adapter now resides in rural Poland, this 14″ Apple iBook with no hard drive and a faulty motherboard comes with nothing else but a receipt. And my thanks.
There comes a time in every man’s life when his dad takes him aside and gives him a glass apple.
At least, I’m assuming there is, because that’s what my father did.
When your dad gives you a glass apple, you’re left with many questions. Who makes glass apples? Where did my father come to possess a glass apple? Why is he giving me a glass apple?
The answers are Tiffany’s, I Don’t Know and I Really Don’t Know, respectively.
There may be a tendency to think that the acquisition of a glass apple is one of life’s milestones – much like graduation, marriage and the birth of a child. But upon further reflection it just appears that my father had a glass apple and didn’t particularly want it around the house. So he gave it to me, his first-born son.
As I’ve mentioned, it’s a Tiffany’s glass apple, made by Germans. Is that special? I don’t know. I’ve read a lot of books, but I’ve never gleaned from any of them just who has the best glass apples. I still don’t know why they exist in the first place. They’re hardly practical. Useless in salads, not a cost-effective way to brown-nose a teacher, and if one struck Newton on the head we’d have been short one smart guy and his theory of gravity.
Obviously it’s unused, as far as glass apples go. It looks just like it did the day it was made, for whatever reason it was made.
For measurement purposes it’s about the same size as a healthy, conventional apple. It comes in the very same Tiffany & Company box my father handed to me the day I joined the ranks of the glass-appled.
I’ve thought long and hard about holding on to this and making it an heirloom. I’ve tried to picture sitting down with my son in 30 years and handing him a glass apple. Perhaps I’d create a handover ceremony of sorts, with music and incense. I’d wear a tuxedo and present the glass apple on a velvet pillow. And he’d cry and thank me and promise to uphold whatever values a glass apple might represent. Then I’d climb a mountain and will myself to death.
But I can’t do it. The glass apple has to go.
It would be my pleasure to sell you the aforementioned apple. No questions. No judgments. Just two consenting adults engaging in a perfectly legal transaction centered around see-through fruit.
Please, buy this glass apple.
WOW! Mint condition partridge in pear tree **NO RESERVE**
You are bidding on a partridge in a pear tree. The partridge is self-feeding as it lives on pears. Very low maintenance too because he fertilizes the tree. Just needs water on occasion. The pears are delicious if you can wrangle one from the partridge. I would keep it but my lease forbids more than one pet and I have a cat. Recommend insurance because I don’t know how well DHL ships birds.
Take-a-L@@K!!!!! Turtle doves, pair. Awesome present!!!!
Two white turtle doves. Great present for a couple of love “birds”! White, black eyes, good health. They are easy going and very quiet for the most part. Sorry, I am unable to answer any questions about feeding, care, etc., because they were a gift and did not come with instructions. I would keep them but my cat is freaking out and I’m already in violation of my lease.
Imported hens, no reserve, Check It Out!
You are bidding on three chickens from France. They need a farm environment more than my New York apartment. I do not know if they are male or female, sorry. They are very friendly and inquisitive but not a good idea if you have a cat or lease restrictions. Bid away!
SINGING BIRDS!!!! MUST SEE! MUST HEAR!!!!
This is a gorgeous family of four birds. If you love birdsongs, these birds will not disappoint. I must sell them because my lease is in jeopardy as I have too many pets and the beautiful birdsongs travel through the bathroom vent and upset the angry lawyer in 4G.
Collection of rings. Never worn.
You are bidding on five rings. They are gold. I do not know much more about them as they are a gift from my boyfriend. They’re pretty nondescript, like the ring from the Hobbit. I would keep them but honestly I need the extra money for birdseed. Also, they are sized for small fingers and mine are swollen because I’m allergic to chickens.
*no reserve* Suuuuuper-fertile geese *no reserve*
These six geese must be females because they keep making eggs! If you are looking to break into geese farming or already are a geese farmer, this would be an excellent addition to your flock (gaggle?) as they are very productive. Must sell at any price because they’re taking up my bedroom and the cat is panicked.
BIG Box of swans
These swans love the water! They have overwhelmed my bathtub and really need a more open space. I can’t use my bathroom and the landlord knows something is up. Shipping is not included and should be discussed because I’m not sure the best way to send swans. They have big feet.
Female Dairy Workers
PLEASE! Keep all your comments about indentured servitude to yourself. These women were a GIFT and I am selling them because my apartment has only one futon. They seem pleasant enough but YOU NEED COWS otherwise they sit around all day and complain about the swan droppings.
Dancers —-no reserve—-
SERIOUS BIDDERS ONLY. These ladies will put on a cool show like Riverdance at your command but you are TOTALLY RESPONSIBLE for their food, lodging and entertainment after that. Frankly, I’m not that big into dance and one of them stepped on my cat. Free shipping – they’ll walk.
Hyperactive Nobility — SEE FOR YOURSELF—
This is a collection of ten rich guys who love to party! If you have kids this could be the ULTIMATE gift because they jump around all day (noble privilege). Be advised: they complain about everything, don’t like cats, and they won’t stop harassing your milkmaids. Must be well-fed and filled with brandy at all times or they’ll complain about you during their afternoon tea.
L@@K!!! PIPERS PIPING L@@K!!!
These guys have GOT TO GO because the angry lawyer in 4G is threatening to get me evicted. They are MEGA talented and can really get your lords jumping and ladies dancing – which is great unless you have hardwood floors. Please, BID!
A Dozen Drummers
I just broke up with my boyfriend, received an eviction notice and my cat ran away. Do I need a dozen guys banging drums around my house? No. Totally nerve-racking, and not one of them offered to help carry my futon down the stairs. No reserve price. Lot includes drums and tall Nutcracker hats.
Most likely you are surprised that such a thing exists. You are not alone.
When I discovered Playboy in Braille years ago, it was in a box in an abandoned building. I found myself in a state of disbelief. The kind you feel when you’re being chased by a leprechaun with a crossbow.
It’s normal to not want Playboy in Braille to exist. Because it’s weird. It raises too many questions. Questions like: Why is the government printing Playboy in Braille? And: How do you explain a naked woman to a pubescent, visually impaired teen?
“Elka leans against a wall, wearing only a carpenter’s tool belt. She’s hot. Believe me.”
“Katsumi arches unnaturally over a coffee table. You can see the whole thing.”
“Anja’s Mediterranean skin is a warm brown, like the craft paper Playboy you’re reading with your finger.”
Playboy in Braille makes you think. It’s exciting but uncomfortable at the same time. Like Courtney Love fixing your stove.
Run your fingers over the pages, never really knowing if you’re touching a gorgeous blonde or an essay by Tom Clancy. Was that Cindy Crawford’s bum, or an interview with Gore Vidal? Frankly, it’s whatever you want it to be.
That’s the glory of Playboy in Braille. November 1995.Volume XLII, No. 11.
It’s number 2 in a 4 part series. I don’t know where the other parts are, but you’d only miss them if you could read Braille. And you can’t, because you’re reading this.
This would be a terrible gift for the visually impaired, because you don’t give the visually impaired one quarter of a decade-old Playboy as a gift.
But for you? Put it out on the coffee table like I did. Owning Playboy in Braille is like having a Day-Glo orange monkey that can curse in Farsi. It gets attention. People talk.
You want Playboy in Braille. Playboy in Braille wants you.
At least that’s what I think it says.
[In a fit of irony, eBay removed the listing, citing it as being for “Mature Audiences.”]
The fascinating story of a boy, his leather pants and eBay.
An original piece for The Independent (UK) newspaper.
Some of the more interesting media interference:
An Irish friend reports that he heard a reading on Ireland’s Ian Dempsey Breakfast Show.
An interview with BBC Scotland’s MacAulay & Co. Not bad considering I had to be up at 5:30am New York time.
Canada’s National Post comes a-calling. Reprints the listing and kindly offers a link to Banterist.
John in Dublin suggested creating a pointless but interesting readership map.
Over 2,000,000 served. Certainly enjoying the residual effects, and an unfathomable number of emails. And the interviews. And the writing projects. Couple that chaos with a feverish 14-month old and a wife in Europe for a wedding and you have the perfect recipe for a drinking problem. My 15 minutes is going swimmingly. Perhaps Wedding Dress Guy can offer me guidance.
Vitaly informs me that the listing has been translated – very well – into Russian and appeared as the pick of the day on the Russian humor site Anekdot.
After getting in Women’s Wear Daily, I’m now the only person I know who can say they’ve been in Women’s Wear Daily. Very nice article, and Donna Karan’s folks made the awesome PR move of suggesting they’d take me shopping. They didn’t, but I would’ve said the same thing.
TMFTML reports the UK’s Guardian printed the listing, albeit without any attribution. Says Guardian staffer Murray Armstrong: “[I]t was attributed as an eBay entry.”
Over 2,600,000 folks.
NY Post interviews me. Takes lots of pictures.
The NY Daily News has a story on regrettable purchases which mentions the pants. The photo of me they used in the print version makes me feel sad – they have me dreaming of a man in leather pants.
Now over 3 million.
An interview on Weekend America.
Missed the chance to contribute a clever quote because I was in transit to Europe, but nonetheless appeared in various papers via the Associated Press. Ryan Pearson’s article “Auctions birth a genre: eBay lit” is a nice little piece, and my name is spelled correctly 33% of the time.
Women’s Wear Daily “Fool For Love” PDF
The Independent “The Wrong Trousers” PDF
Original eBay Listing PDF
You are bidding on a mistake.
We all make mistakes. We date the wrong people for too long. We chew gum with our mouths open. We say inappropriate things in front of the wrong people.
And we buy leather pants.
I can explain these pants and why they are in my possession. I bought them many, many years ago under the spell of a woman whom I believed to have taste. She suggested I try them on. I did. She said they looked good. I wanted to have a relationship of sorts with her. I’m stupid and prone to impulsive decisions. I bought the pants.
The relationship, probably for better, never materialized. The girl, whose name I can’t even recall, is a distant memory. I think she was short.
Ultimately the pants were placed in the closet where they have remained, unworn, for nearly a decade. I would like to emphasize that: Aside from trying these pants on, they have never, ever been worn. In public or private.
I have not worn these leather pants for the following reasons:
I am not a member of Queen.
I do not like motorcycles.
I am not Rod Stewart.
I am not French.
I do not cruise for transvestites in an expensive sports car.
These were not cheap leather pants. They are Donna Karan leather pants. They’re for men. Brave men, I would think. Perhaps tattooed, pierced men. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say you either have to be very tough, very gay, or very famous to wear these pants and get away with it.
Again, they’re men’s pants, but they’d probably look great on the right lady. Ladies can get away with leather pants much more often than men can. It’s a sad fact that men who own leather pants will have to come to terms with.
They are size 34×34. I am no longer size 34×34, so even were I to suddenly decide I was a famous gay biker I would not be able to wear these pants. These pants are destined for someone else. For reasons unknown – perhaps to keep my options open, in case I wanted to become a pirate – I shuffled these unworn pants from house to house, closet to closet. Alas, it is now time to part ways so that I may use the extra room for any rhinestone-studded jeans I may purchase in the future.
These pants are in excellent condition. They were never taken on pirate expeditions. They weren’t worn onstage. They didn’t straddle a Harley, or a guy named Harley. They just hung there, sad and ignored, for a few presidencies.
Someone, somewhere, will look great in these pants. I’m hoping that someone is you, or that you can be suckered into buying them by a girl you’re trying to bed.
Please buy these leather pants.
Questions & Answers:
Q: Seen your ad on VBMX.com…..are you gay? LOL Just kidding!! I would claim these on VBMX!! Now all the guys are gonna think of you as a sissy!! LOL!!! Good luck bro!!
A: Thanks. That’s a lot of exclamation points.
Q: Hi, Sorry I don’t want the leather pants but just had to write and say I really had a good laugh at your description!! I really hope you sell them …. and not to a guy! Good luck! Jeannette
A: If you change your mind and want the pants, I’ll be waiting patiently by the keyboard.
Q: For Mr. VBMX: If he were gay, he would know what boot cut means. What does VBMX mean?
A: I’m not sure. It sounds like a missile.
Q:Well, it looks like you’re going to sell them. They’re too big for me anyway and I’m female. You’re a great writer — so natural, so funny. I think you should be in standup. Thank you so much for making my day.
A:Thank you for the kind words. In lieu of standup I post things on Banterist.com. The hours are better and there’s no drink minimum.
Q: Bsack, I’m an editor for Poor Mojo’s Almanac(k) (http:// www.poormojo.org), a weekly online magazine now entering its sixth year of publication. We’d like to run the text of your posting, with the image of the glorious pants, as a rant on our site. May we do so? Our submission guidlines can be found here: http://www.poormojo.org/submission.html (Long story short: we owe you a beer for one piece–provided you came to Ann Arbor or SF, CA to pick it up–or will reward you with a PMjA t-shirt after we’ve published 5 of your pieces.) Interested? Best, Dave . . . Editor and Technologist PMjA
A: Sure, if you don’t mind that it’s already on Banterist.com
Q: I am in a band, but do not wear leather pants. However, if I DID wear leather pants, your pants are the ones I would buy because your description is…eloquent and touching in a leatherish sort of way. May we post your ad on our site?
A: I think I answered this already, but eBay is asking it again for some reason. Thank you for being polite and seeking permission. Sure, you can post it. After all, I’m trying to sell pants.
Q: you enjoy stereotyping people that wear leather dont ya, you think owning leather is gay, let me tell you something i am not gay, i am not famous, dont ride a bike, and unlike i aint a coward. i do own 2 pairs of them, to me they are more comfy than blue jeans ever will be, i where them anywhere i want including church, no ones ever said nothing about them
A: More important: Do you need a pair of 34×34 leather pants?
Q: You express yourself exactly like my ex-fiancee. I had to check if you lived in Boulder, CO just to see if you were him. I really didn’t think anyone else had his matter of fact mixed with twisted humor personality. Ten years ago I was just ending our relationship so I was going thinking that possibly he bought these pants to try and woo a little waitress vixen with an IQ half that of her bust size. By the way, the last person that claimed that you were stereotyping, did you for some reason envision Dueling Banjos playing in the background with a man sporting a greased back mullet and a makeshift spittoon, and, of course, comfy leather pants, or was that just me?
A: Yes, the grammar and tone said ‘Deliverance’ but the leather pants in church said ‘Wham UK’. So I’m confused.
Q: I don’t actually need the pants… and they wouldn’t fit my less than womanly curves even if I could pull them off- but I could not resist telling you what a fabulous ad this is. While reason prevailed in the end, I was almost convinced to buy the pants if for no other reason than to see if I could be coy enough to get a man to wear them in hopes of a relationship with me… fabulous ad, just fabulous.
A: Sadly I lack the ability to sell people things they don’t need – unlike Ron Popeil and The Sharper Image.
Q: No question, just wanted to tell you this is the best listing i’ve ever read. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with the short girl, but am so proud of you for never wearing these. :) Good luck with your sale!
A: Thank you. I’ll be free of them in less than two days, and at least $76 closer to owning a yacht.
Q: If they did still fit.. and I wasn’t married, would you wear them for me? LOL.. best of luck!
A: Yes, but only if I was wearing a pink tank top and re-enacting Billy Squier’s regrettable ‘Rock me tonight’ video.
Q: I would like to be tough, gay or a rock star. Do you think purchasing and subsequently donning these trousers will help?
A: Probably not if you call them ‘trousers.’ A true rockstar would say ‘pants’ or ‘duds’ or something more rock-star-y, like ‘ladykillers.’
Q: FUNNY!! I too have a pair of leather pants to sell and for very similar reasons. Mine also have severe case of closet shrinkage. Thanks for the laugh and happy selling. tom
A: Hmm. Maybe we know the same girl.
Q: Thank you for the inspiration. I am now thinking of ebaying every little thing….and I do mean little thing that I ever wore to be a man pleaser/enticer. That would have to include stiletto heels, leather bustiers, gstrings and the like…..hmmm, wait a minute….now that I think about it….I might have to bid on those pants and create an ensemble….for myself. Did I mention that I am 5’2?
A: Hello Senator Clinton.
Q: I just wanted to tell you that you made me laugh aloud! First, when my husband was in high school he apparently bought a white satin Michael Jacksonesque multi-zippered jacket from The Chess King under strikingly similar circumstances. I wonder if it is the same chick . . . Second, my husband and I recently hosted a white trash party, Trailerpalooza. We had been to a 38 Special concert and decided to knock off thier look. So we each bought pleather pants (though these beauties would have been perfect!) and I then sewed flame fabric to the bottoms, as if it was lapping up the legs. We also got leather jackets which we adorned with a bit of flame fabric. Well, somehow, I came out looking like a badass, but my poor husband looked like a homo. In fact someone actually said, -It’s amazing how pleather makes Shari look so bad, and Rick so gay.- I wish I had a picture on my computer, because I think it would make you laugh! Anyway, good luck with the sale of your magic pants!
A: When I was a busboy at El Torito I remember a waiter who saved up hundreds for a replica Michael Jackson ‘Beat It’ jacket. Zippers everywhere. At the time I thought he was a god. Now I think he’s probably buried in someone’s tomato garden.
Q: Are these pants worthy of cruising for transvestites while in my Maserati? I just got one and need an outfit that would go with my new car.
A: I think leather pants would accent that mid-life crisis quite nicely.
Q: Love the pants but . . . I wonder, how many thongs do you think could be made from them? Fruitcreek.
A: For Americans? 15. French? 45.
Q: LOL. I once knew a guy who actually wore leather pants, loved them, and was very popular with them. That was 15 years ago…he was Italian…and my uncle’s boyfriend. Enough said.
A: Italy shares France’s reputation for adultery, leather pants, and aggressiveness to women. Except for your uncle’s boyfriend, of course.
Q: I have a friend that emails these types of auctions to me for a good laugh and I must admit, yours is the best I have seen in a long time. Your wording and demeanor are perfect. If I had the cake to spend on something I would never wear right now, I would buy them just for the simple fact you made me laugh that hard. I wish you made commercials on TV so I wouldn’t be forced to channel surf when they came on. Kudos to you. Are all your descriptions this funny or is this a fluke? Your replies are excellent and this auction should be on Letterman or something. Good luck and thanks for the laugh.
A: I used to write commercials, but they’re hard to make funny because the people who make the final decisions are idiots. But maybe you’ll like Banterist.com or Sixtysecond.com
Q: I’m confused, is Donna Karan a rock star or a transvestite?
A: It’s a very fine line, really.
Addendum: My pants sold for $102.50 to a gentleman in Tallahassee, Florida. Why? I don’t know. It’s humid there. But the listing continues to attract folks, over 3 million so far. What happens when that many people see your listing? Read: The History of My Traveling Pants.
You are bidding on a SAG/AFTRA Strike 2000 pin, a very historical piece which celebrates both the profession of acting and organized labor’s ability to implode.
This pin brings you back to a time when the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Television & Radio Artists stopped fighting each other in order to unite and not-so-swiftly deal themselves a crushing blow.
What says we mean business better than decimating your income and sending production to Canada forever? Nothing, aside from blowing yourself up in a forest.
Now you can know what it was like to be on a union picket line with Treat Williams and Richard Dreyfuss chanting: What do we want? We’re not exactly sure! When do we want it? No idea.
Some questions answered:
Was the strike a success?
In the sense that Hitler invading Poland was a success: It started off really strong but dragged on forever and ultimately ended with management shooting themselves in the head.
What was the strike about?
The strike was about showing how actors mean business when it comes to getting their demands met.
Did they get their demands met?
No, unless they demanded that their incomes be reduced to zero and all production move up to Canada – never to return – in which case mission accomplished.
Why did all the production move up to Canada?
Because Canadians look just like Americans but don’t ask for as much money. And they’re quieter on the set.
What happened to American actors?
They’re still around, but they’re now called house painters or baggage handlers.
Will wearing this pin make me a member of SAG or AFTRA?
No, but you can pretend to be a member – and since acting is pretending, you could be well on your way to getting your SAG card.
Why not bid right now?
Hopefully you are bidding on a PowerMac G4 with a 733MHz processor, 1.25GB RAM and 60GB Hard Drive.
The keyboard and mouse are included. The keyboard had been used to generate witty articles, scathing letters to various customer service departments, and a long-winded letter to my college telling them their Film program was ruined by a bunch of commie hack professors.
The computer comes in the original box with the original styrofoam packing. The box features the original sticker from Marchond Jones – the name of the guy who sold me the computer. He didn’t really do anything, but when I picked out the computer he slapped his name sticker on it, no doubt to claim some kind of a commission. The Marchond Jones sticker is a collector’s edition, no doubt, as Marchond probably doesn’t work at Micro Center anymore. In the event Marchond Jones becomes famous, you can tell people he touched your PowerMac’s box once. Imagine their amazement, because I can’t.
The Macintosh is the perfect computer for people who hate Windows or who are just afraid of Windows. If you buy this computer, you can spend the rest of your days telling people that Macintosh rules and Windows sucks. It makes for great conversation.
The computer has OSX 10.2 installed. The original Software Restore and Apple Hardware Test disks are included. I am also including the OSX 10.2 install disks and iLife 1.0 disks because I am mildly pleasant. The “Setting Up” documentation is also included.
I will now answer dumb questions so no one else has to shame themselves:
Does it work?
Yes. It works, for God’s sake.
Are the power cords included?
Yes. The power cords are included and the mouse cable and keyboard cable. Huzzah.
Will you sell it to me off of eBay and ship it to Indonesia via FedEx?
No, you little foreign criminal.
Specs and Fantastic Bidding Opportunity
You are bidding on a white, hand-knit Irish fisherman’s sweater.
Why? I have no idea. Maybe you’re an Irish fisherman and you lost your sweater. Maybe you’d like to be an Irish fisherman, freezing half to death on the Irish Sea desperately searching for herring before paddling back to your loudmouth Irish wife whose wit makes up for her large bum. I don’t know. I’m not here to ask questions, I’m here to sell my white, size 42, hand-knit Irish sweater.
The sweater is in excellent condition because I don’t think I ever wore it. Why? Because I’m not Irish, nor am I a fisherman. I was simply charmed into buying it when I was over there, many years ago when I was enamored with the Irish and Guinness and thought the IRA was cool. The IRA isn’t cool by the way. They’re a bunch of thugs and if you make the mistake of inviting one to stay over he’ll camp out for two weeks, eat all your cheese and terrify your wimpy, longhair roommate. Then he’ll borrow $100 he doesn’t intend to repay, get his teeth knocked out by a bunch of Mexicans in a bar brawl and join the U.S. Army Rangers. Good riddance, Gerry.
Anyway, back to the sweater.
It’s white because it’s made with white sheep wool. It’s thick, so it’s great for cold weather or Bikram yoga. If you wear it with a pair of Ray Ban tortoise shell sunglasses you’ll look like Mickey Rourke in A Prayer For The Dying, a horrible film. If you don’t like white, stay tuned for more auctions. I’ve been to Ireland 16 times, and each time I came back with a sweater that I wound up storing in the closet for years. I’m that sharp.
This sweater features an intricate pattern which was how Irish folks used to determine what village a drowned fisherman came from. I don’t know what village this pattern is from, but rest assured if you drown some Irishman will run there and let everyone know.
Bid if you’re so inclined.
There are many reasons you might wish to purchase the 75-piece set of amazingly heinous gold-plated Versace flatware I’ve recently come to possess through no fault of my own.
Perhaps you are an angry gay attorney with a lot of disposable income, desperately searching for a collection of cutlery to complement the glossy black dining table, blue sofa and neon waterfall in your tastelessly decorated domain.
The gold-plated Versace demitasse spoon suits any espresso, and would undoubtedly add a sophisticated accent to your endless bitching about the building staff and delivery menus left at your door. And, there are eight of them. With great spoons come great friends, goes the saying. Your acquisition of gold-plated Versace flatware could be the first step in acquiring a posse of mean-spirited dandies to love you for who you really are.
Please purchase my recently acquired gold-plated Versace flatware set.
Perhaps you are a made member of a crime syndicate. You know quite well that your Cadillac Escalade assault SUV announces your class and stature to the general public on the roadways and sidewalks; but, did you know what announces that same je ne sais quoi to your dinner guests?
That’s right. Just like a giant, inflatable rat alerts folks to a content non-union construction site, a gold-plated Versace sauce ladle tells folks you’re the boss. Absolutely nothing adds more class to the timeless act of sauce relocation. Your friends and enemies alike will give you the respect you crave. And your family will know they made the right decision not having you “dealt with” last Easter when you were acting all sassy to a Capo.
Please consider purchasing my recently acquired gold-plated Versace flatware set.
Overnight Hip-Hop success? Firstly, let me congratulate you on parlaying a fascination with vice, three gunshot wounds, and a history of felonies into a career. You know as I do that one must not only represent, but one must represent with style. Style is not just gold teeth, gold chains, gold rims and gold car antennas, my friend. Style is also gold-plated Versace flatware.
The late-night recording sessions are draining, G. To keep pace and deliver more phat raps about whores and liquor, you’re going to need sustenance. That sustenance is cake. And cake, my G, is best served with a gold-plated Versace cake server. What your entourage does with the remaining 74 cutlery pieces is unimportant. What matters is getting your cake on with class.
Please, someone, purchase my recently acquired gold-plated Versace flatware set.
By no means am I limiting purchase to angry gay lawyers, hoods or guys from ‘hoods. Perhaps you’re a self-made, middle-aged businessman suffering a mid-life crisis. You may have terminated your 32-year marriage, purchased a Ferrari, and spent three weeks in Costa Rica because of their laid back attitude about prostitution – but, at some point you’re going to want to settle down again. When that time comes, you’ll need to woo a trophy wife. Nothing woos a twenty-something opportunist quite like miso-glazed sea bass, Chalk Hill Chardonnay and two gold-plated Versace fish knives. She’ll be hanging on your arm before you can say “How much?”
Please, I’m serious, purchase my recently acquired 75-piece gold-plated Versace flatware set.
Finally, perhaps you are Donald Trump. Please, The Donald, take advantage of my not inexpensive, recently acquired, 75-piece gold-plated Versace flatware set. I watched almost a half-hour of The Apprentice, and think you’ll find the gold-plated dessert forks great for picking up nougat.
Will anyone purchase my recently acquired 75-piece gold-plated Versace flatware set?
This flatware monstrosity once set someone back nearly ten grand. If you think that’s pretty amazing, you’re not the only one. Although I encourage you to purchase it at a high price, it does not mean I will respect you for it.
All pieces feature the same gaudy Medusa logo that Versace uses to justify $900 cufflinks.
8 demitasse spoons
8 bread knives
8 salad forks
8 dessert forks
9 regular forks
1 cake server
1 sauce ladle
2 fish knives
2 fish forks
2 serving spoons
1 large serving spoon
1 large spork-like spoon
Large box to hide all 75 godforsaken pieces
As I’ve mentioned, I hope someone will purchase my recently acquired 75-piece gold-plated Versace flatware set.
Perhaps that someone is you.