It occurred to me the other day that I really don't know anything about my coworkers. I've been here over a year working with these people, yet they remain as strange anthropomorphic question marks concealing mystery like haunted castles or unsolved crimes. True, there was a traumatic rendezvous in which myself and a dozen other young boys visited Lowtax's hotel room to watch videotapes with him. There was also that time tender Frolixo and myself slept on the hardwood floors of Zack and lovely Mrs. Zack's apartment and prayed that we would both wake up alive and unscathed. Even with those fleeting encounters I gained almost no knowledge of my compatriots. I do have a few lingering memories of them, I suppose. Zack might have been a pirate or at least the oarsmen on some sort of vessel used for plundering, but I say that merely because he had a lot of barrels of spice sitting around and told me in confidence that he liked oars. Rich, with his shifty eyes and paranoid demeanor, might have been some kind of crack addict or jubilant crack aficionado. I remember one particularly chilling moment when he forced me to shave my handlebar mustache because it was conspiring against him and the three major heads of Europe, with whom he claimed to share an ancient blood pact. I went through three pairs of pants the night I met him, and all at the same time. The only thing I recall about my meeting with tender Frolixo was that he claimed to have been banned from Fark and that he's just as capable of riding in automobiles as I am. Aside from the notion that it's probably safer not to spend time with these people, I have learned so very little.
Since every SA staffer has me on ignore and refuses to converse with me, I can't really get to know them better through any standard means of communication. That doesn't mean I can't learn about them, their habits, and their interests through other clandestine channels pulsating below the calm, smiling surface of the Internet. One of my initial thoughts was to learn about this shopping habits. You can tell a lot about somebody just by what they buy and what things they like. The problem with that shadowy method is that it involves trickery and potentially illegal activities. Logically, I decided to play it safe and do things in reverse. I searched all the online auction sites to see if there were any auctions being run by my coworkers. This subtle experiment in virtual stalking ended up surprising me like a diagnosis of murder. Now I know for sure my coworkers are truly, truly deranged. What follows are the auctions I found them running.
L@@K - KEYBOARD - LIKE NEW!
|Seller: [email protected]|
Seller Rating: Abysmal
Current bid: $3
I purchased this keyboard in 1998 with intent to make German dance music. When I realized I'm not German and that I live on an entirely different continent than Germany – the only place German dance music can come from – I fell into a massive depression. The only time I ever used it was when I lined all the keys with coke and then snorted them in one massive piano roll blizzard that sent me to heaven for three days and five nights. The only other time it got used was when I gave it to Jarome, the guy that I buy my blow form, in exchange for another hit. It ended up back in my hands when he used it to bust my door down and beat me senselessly. After that I briefly used it to play renditions of assorted industrial hits on street corners for money, although it was difficult to play anything due to the massive amount of blood gumming up the keys. Still, it's hardly been used. Another time it got used was when I was shooting up and I passed out on it. I would have died then, but my neighbors finally called the police from all the noise. My drooling lower jaw was lodged firmly on a key causing the same note to play for nearly six hours. My corrosive stomach acids and voluminous sweat ended up eating away all the labels and product markings, as well as the inner circuitry, which is why I don't know what kind of keyboard it is anymore.
While none of the keys no longer work, one button is still firmly operational. Pressing it activates an excellent demo song, which may or may not be "Ode to Joy" played using a Jupiter Harpsichord patch set. Several MIDI cables are included, although I seem to have lost the AC adapter. I desperately need to make room for boxes and boxes of unsold SA lederhosen, so please help me out and buy this. Buyer also agrees to purchase $100 worth of SA lederhosen.
I have included a photograph of the lederhosen:
VALUABLE HANDMADE TROPHIES
Seller Rating: Horrid
Current bid: $1
This set includes several trophies handmade by myself and awarded to myself for outstanding wit, wisdom, and prose. Purchase this set and enjoy the feeling of being a winning writer, a great friend, and all around inspiring individual. Your friends will undoubtedly marvel as these trophies, which cover such skills as writing, playwriting, sex appeal, "Benaciousness," wit, and leadership. Why am I selling off such a large part of my winning personality? The problem is that I'm simply running out of trophy space! To make matters worse, my roommate, Mike, has all but demanded I start getting rid of trophies because he has scarce little space left for his seashell collection. I definitely don't want to stop awarding myself with trophies, so I have no choice but to let go of the awards I earned throughout my prestigious younger days. Now at first I was quite offended by Mike's suggestion, and polled my other roommates, Sue, Lester, Harold, and Chief Ablefeather, on whether or not we were going to have to ask Mike to leave. While they all insisted Mike had a point, I did take it up with our caseworker, Caroline, who was quite adamant in insisting I had no right to kick anybody out of the home. She also seemed to be of the wrong opinion that I was making Chief Ablefeather feel bad about himself by constantly winning so many awards from myself. She even had the audacity to suggest I award other people with trophies. No way! I don't answer phones for six hours a week at the country welfare office to be able to buy and make trophies for other people.
If you would like to buy a piece of my historic life and sample in the joys of being a winning writer, playwright, comedian, friend, and champion, then this is the package of a lifetime. This set includes 24 trophies I earned over the course of 4 years. Buyer is granted ownership of the trophies as physical objects, but not the inherent accolades associated with them. Those still belong to me
Beautiful Darling with Plenty of Puppies!
Seller Rating: Precious
Current bid: $32
This super adorable figurine is of a darling little angel who is awfully heartwarming on her own, but even more gorgeous when you note that she's got a wonderful bushel of puppies! If that doesn't tug those old heartstrings of yours, well, then you must be an atheist and a baby killer! Looking at all those puppies, you'll wish to high heaven that you could just hug them all! But save some hugs for the little angel who has her hands full with puppy love! Her eyes are so big it almost looks like she's sad, undoubtedly because of all the abortionists running wild. If you look closely, the sign she's carrying reads "free puppies." The poor little angel has to give some away (and not murder them like an abortion doctor), but you can keep the tears at bay by keeping them all together! And you know what, she won't be sad for long, not with those energetic pooches at her side! You can expect them to be mighty playful!
GOD BLESS AMERICA AND BRING OUR FETUSES HOME!
Slightly soiled effigy of Ben Platt, who is not funny
Seller Rating: N/A
Current bid: N/A
This is a very beautiful effigy of Ben Platt that I painstakingly crafted over the course of a month. It has seen little use outside of the bedroom and carpool lanes, and is the perfect companion for the lonely gentleman or lady who desires an unfunny, lifeless mass to hold hands or cuddle with. It is, however, most effectively suited for an individual who spends every waking moment of his or her life wishing permanent and long-term death and suffering upon Ben "Greasnin" Platt, who is not funny. What can you do with this effigy of Ben "Greasnin" Platt?
This effigy is made of highly durable materials and can sustain a substantial beating. I am asking for no financial amount in exchange for this effigy, just that whoever agrees to take it off my hands also agrees to spend one night with me in a haunted barn.
Box of My Ex-Fiancé's Things
|Seller: emilyreigel |
Seller Rating: Con Artist
Current bid: $2
THIS PACKAGE CONTAINS A CARDBOARD BOX FILLED WITH NUMEROUS ITEMS THAT PREVIOUSLY BELONGED TO MY EX-FIANCÉ THAT I DECIDED TO KEEP AND SELL. THIS PACKAGE INCLUDES:
ABOUT THE SELLER: I AM A LICENSED VETERINARIAN AND PARACHUTE JUMP INSTRUCTOR. I ALSO TEACH CLASSES AT HARVARD. I AM CERTIFIED FOR CPR.
BUYER MUST PROVIDE KEYS TO HOUSE AND MONTHLY ALLOWANCE, AS WELL AS USE OF THEIR CAR.
Oh yes, I am in very good company. I'm glad they don't talk to me, because man, what a bunch of freaks! I just hope they don't read this website, because otherwise I'm fired.
Can't tell a drinking fountain from a urinal? We've got you covered. Brush up on your drinking fountain enthusiast -- or sipper -- vocabulary and learn to talk and swap sips with the best of them.
2 PM: Steven J. accidentally drops his vintage Trapper Keeper, revealing erotic drawings of the ‘bunny girls’ emoji. The room draws silent. Slowly, member after member opens his/her notebooks and tablets, revealing dozens of pages of bunny girl emoji fanart. The room votes 12-0 never to speak of this again.
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