You Know You Want It!

Sorry, kids. I'm busy getting things ready to sell on eBay and it's taking a little longer than I would have expected, and now my brain is fried. Writing's essentially out of the question, unless I get drunk, ergo inspired. Come to think of it, I'm craving beer. (Newcastle Brown Ale is tonight's treat.)

I'm selling an odd mix, from a collectible advance reader's of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius to what I call the "porn pad" lamp. There's nothing sexual about the lamp; it's just that you'd expect to see it among shag rugs, red velvet (of which my fam had two sofas clothed in), and ebony cupid statues, that's all. And I was raised with that thing in the house, you know. (Explains a lot.) My thangs can be found here. Feel free to buy a little piece of me. Aside from this, it's all yer gettin' fer now, sweeties. You KNOW you want the lamp. Shit, everyone wants a big, heavy brass lamp with swans on it. We're all swans. It's symbolic of our inner-cum-outer beauty, and what's more, we're shining a light on it. (How do you know I've done drugs in the past? I see symbolism EVERYwhere.)

Oh, and if you really wish you could watch your old homemade sex Super-8 tapes from the '70s again, I'm selling a projector!

Yes. I am shameless.

(More to be added, including artwork and a 15-volume limited-edition set of American history books.)