- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 27
Now it's been up on Facebook Marketplace so long that I thought I'd shop-drop it downtown somewhere with an Ace of Cups Tarot card stuffed inside, let someone have that thrill of discovery. Things otherwise unsaleable I've noted often "disappear" into the free economy when presented as gifts from the universe, or the context surrounding them changes.
Anyways, someone reached out, wanted to buy it, so arranged to meet them for coffee. Since I don't know them I just mark the table with the libation cup.
And he shows up, looks it over, "What can you tell me about it?", and really, not much other than the USA stamp on the side and maybe it's pewter (he guesses aluminum) and probably it was new-age paraphernalia used by witches and wizards.
He sits down, pays me, notices my watch...
(Handsome old Bulova)
...and it turns out he has a collection as well, sounds big, he'll send me pictures on Facebook. And so we talk for about 20 minutes about watches, he soon figures I'm a little bit more of a collector/more informed than he is, but we're bonded over a common interest.
And I think to myself, isn't it curious that we'd share the same interests - mine being reasonably obtuse - but you could almost recognize the cup, the candlesticks, the whatever, and somehow know the person by their possessions...
But we all do, just as we know them by their dress or their manners or accent or in a thousand other ways.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 292
I have scant memories of my beginning, time out of mind. Mind, you see, is shaped by culture, and before culture there is nothing. My earliest memory, that of sitting about a fire and listening to a tale I would later know as that of Orion and the Pleiades. Then there were Eight. From there I drifted, always the hot climes where none would suspect, there are so many inexplicable deaths that one or a dozen will raise no questions. And when the questions are raised I move on.
You are what you eat, and Protean I was, becoming each of the races I hunted, a month and I might change my shape enough to pass for half-blooded, 2 months and the people would think that I had been thereabouts born and bred.
I learned to fly ahead of the plagues; I was not cheating death, merely hastening it; those young pale virgins, their quality of innocence, this is what sustained me. I was Mercy itself, for the pestilences that followed me were never as kind, and every one of their lives prolonged my own, and I lived first hundreds, then thousands of years. And when I was particularly moved by some tender prey I might visit her a few nights, allow her the slow lingering sleeping sickness or aching consumption, before resurrecting her with a few drops of my own. What privilege to be able to choose your children!
Where only I dined, the pale morning death like the petals of a flower laid out upon the clay, the faintest smile upon their lips; if life is suffering then let their deaths be made sweet; always I have been the considerate guest; and the anguished keening carried to me on the morning breeze foretold the plagues to follow.
Travelling routes that took me from: Ur, Bagdad, Cairo, Tangiers, Athens, Rome, Venice, Carthage; a tour of centuries, a hundred other cities where there lies now only sand and sea, then later with ships, and steam ships and then aeroplanes and the American South, Savannah to New Orleans, time and again running into my little proteges, our tastes now the same, with families and roosts of their own, twirling ringlet curls: “And how do you like this gift?…”,
I have wondered at the fear our race have provoked in you, the Sumerians and their Pazuzu, the Greeks with their Gorgons, your priests with their crosses, yet the cattle don’t fear the farmer, nor is the shepherd feared by his flock. And while my race has been feared because of a few degenerate examples I have never been one.
First of all manners. What manner of beast laps up the blood of his victims? Only the most depraved, I have always stood upon ritual, table manners, while I’ve needed no fork and knife, and have shortened a great many lives I have given others the chance of immortality. In my estimation this balances out.
Which brings us to the cup. So much talk of progress, first the automobile, then the aeroplane, now it’s all rocket-ships and cell-phones. Mankind, once so noble and filled with aspirations and dreams has become a degenerate race, the world in general infected with a curious depravity, and where with Gilgamesh I could have filled it a hundred times with Poetry, Innocence, Grace and Kindness now I could travel the world and never fill it once. This immortality, well, it’s been a good run, but while reddit offers a ready and willing diet of virgins such is the quality that I would prefer to go hungry. Recall that you are what you eat and never would I deign to become one of those fiends, those withered and gibbering horrors that hang in derelict mansions, or those underground lairs they claw beneath tombs and graveyards, devoided of all language, custom and manners, that have outlived time itself, insatiable, insensible imbeciles, ears filled with crickets and blind eye sockets with star jelly, and yet still, still refusing to die…
Remember the fastidious Count of St. Germain, with his “Who would suspect ME, a vegetarian”?; I ran into him again in New Orleans, not even a hundred years ago, the American diet had taken it’s toll and if he were still alive today I have no doubt he’d be in Congress or Secretary of Health and Human Services.
There is naught left in this world that would quench my thirst, and when the time comes I will wait patiently on the balcony for the morning sun. But pardon my digressions.
For sale: 1 ritual libation cup. Pewter.
I’d prefer to meet at night as the sun irritates my skin, “Solar Urticaria” my physician tells me (and that I need to eat more vegetables)…
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 248
What I can only imagine to be the mouthpiece to a Magical glass trumpet. From its condition I’m guessing the prior owner was a real “Bleeding Gums Murphy” type. Perfect for summoning angels, unicorns or heralding the Apocalypse. Found left as a gift in my car the same evening a variety of things suspiciously went missing. Don’t know where the rest of the trumpet is but I’m pretty sure if you wander the alleys around Baker at sunset somebody will be able to point you in the right direction…
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 1030
I made a pitch to PornHub via "Mindgeek" and 1 month later they still haven't gotten back to me. Their loss, but maybe I shouldn't have written that million dollar cheque into the budget just yet...
FAO: Director of Merchandising, Pornhub
This is a merchandise pitch for one of your top visited websites, Pornhub.
Coming out of the Pandemic (Hopefully), Universities and Colleges will begin in person classes. Pornhub-U of course, being the Alma Mater of countless bored college students it seems only right they have recourse to celebrate their graduation.
What better way to commemorate the Pandemic and those happy years of online instruction than with a PornHub-U Alumni Sweatshirt?
"Pornhub-U - Class of 2022", with a Thumbs-Up Emoji in the center and your catchphrase "Hands On Distance Learning" seems ideal. Of course room should be left for any of the Latin phrases and degrees you might care to bestow, things like "Veni, Vedi, Veni" or "Magna Cum Laude", which could be plausibly typeset to read "Mommy Cum Louder", because, really, who reads these things anyways?
Please do not hesitate to call and discuss royalties.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: For Sale
- Hits: 932
(Trying to sell this goddamn thing on Kijiji and Facebook only they limit my description)
- - Spacious Outdoor Bathroom & Kitchen
- - Excellent for foraging
- - 1 time only close to whatever Amenity your heart so desires.
- - Winter Tires (read: Doesn't need any tires put it up on blocks wow this is a gold mine already!!!!)
- - Roof Rack (read: Abundant storage)
- - 5 Seats, the 3 back of which fold down to accommodate whatever shade of Kootenay Polyamory you're into.