YSaC, Vol. 1273: Playgoers, I bid you welcome. (Or best offer)
Clair sends us a tragedy in three acts.
Act I, in which our protagonist, Pete, enters the stage, and attempts to sell three antique tables:
3 Antique Tables – Want 50 Each.
3 for 125
Or make an offer
call Pete at ### #### SERIOUS CALLERS ONLY
LEAVE A MESSAGE WILL ONLY PICK UP IF YOU LEAVE YOUR NAME AND NUMBER THANKS
Act II, in which Pete, flush with the excitement of having successfully figured out how to operate Craigslist, decides on the very next day to repost the same tables for a higher price. There’s also a side plot about Pete spilling grape jam on his Caps Lock key.
3 ANTIQUE METAL TABLES
I WAS OFFERED 100.00 FROM A REAL ESATE AGENT FOR ONE (1) TABLE TEN YEARS AGO AND I DECLINED THE OFFER. NOW I AM LOOKING FOR SELL
3 FOR 75. EACH
ALL 3 FOR 200
CALL PETE TODAY
### ### ####
However, even with the introduction of the dynamic new character in the person of the real estate agent, the imperatives of the Melpomenian muse cannot be escaped. A victim of his own hubris, in the third act Pete is stripped of his ability to even capitalize his own name.
3 Antique Olde metal tables
BO
call pete
### ####
…and scene.
Re Pete:
call Pete
CALL PETE
call pete
Repete.
My kiddo has 3 stuffed black dogs called : Pete, Pete, and Repeat. But, they don’t come when called.
Pete, to pete’s sake, quo loquam?
Metal “olde” tables? Did the real estate agent catch tetanus from these rusty gimcrasks? Is that “BO” from the decomposition of the RE agent? Are you, Pete, in your minimalist way, raising satirical the plight of the long-extinct Bo people of SE China with their hanging coffins?
Perhaps you mean to lambaste greatness gone with your reference to the once-glorious Baltimore and Ohio railway?
Perhaps, you intend to wax, in Sheldon-like sophontically on the Born–Oppenheimer approximation; but, I fear that the alleged furniture occupies too many spatial dimensions already.
Invoking Bronchiolitis obliterans without a clear intention of raising awareness in this condition is as bad as a bowel obstruction.
But, maybe you are a fan of Biarritz Olympique and wish to improve their “box office”–speculations abound, if largely asymptotically.
As a student of Bōjutsu, I’m inclined to smack things with a quarter-staff–were I to actually give a fig, give or take a Siddhartha . . .
Now, away, away with me, to hie off to the hinterlands among the too many Petes careening, unenlightened, about the highways to my labours, for the pittances thereupon resultant.
[exeunt]
To BO, or not to BO? That is the question.
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The Sparky’s need for an outrageous fortune
Or to take up Real Estate Agents against a sea of tables
And by proposing, own them.
*with sincerest apologies to The Bard*
To sell, or not to sell–that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The OBOs of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of tables
And by desperately Craigslist posting, end them.
It’s gonna be a Hammy kinda day!
I think we should study the correlation between price and the use of capital letters. I’m sure that there’s a lesson in there for a future stimulus program.
Olde Metal Tables? Is this where Spinal Tap composes their songs?
It’s like, we’re metal, and the table is metal, and it’s like, you know, none more metal.
“3 FOR 75. EACH
ALL 3 FOR 200”
*calls Sparky*
Monkey: So you want 200 for all, but 75 for each?
Sparky: (in British accent) Exactly, 75.
Monkey: But why?
Sparky: (pause) Well, that would be a better deal, wouldn’t it?
But are they heavy metal?
HELP ME STOP I AM LOSING MY ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE STOP NEEDED NEW KEYBOARD COMMA THEN NEW DICTIONARY COMMA THEN NEW COMPUTER STOP DRINK YOUR OVALTINE STOP
OT: Sometimes when I see in passing Llamanun, I misread it as laudanum. Since this is my drug of choice, it’s rather appropriate. 8) As you were.
I hear it sung by muppets.
Do-DO-dee-do-do!
I think that’s the Smurfs.
Nope. It’s the dwarfs. All seven of ’em.
My significant other has a mug with Snow White on it. It reads:
If I’m the fairest of them all…
…how come I attract all the short, weird guys?
You can make such judgments as you will from there.
Can anyone explain to me how a metal table of any vintage can aquire body odor … wait, don’t answer that question. I think I just created a new category for Rule 34.
I’m just waiting for Pete/pete’s next ad in which he tries to sell 3 Ye Olde Timey tables.
*Chaucer ate off them!*
*Mustache wax included!*
*Kiss my bare bodkin and make me an offer!*
Wouldn’t Antique Olde make them pre-iron age?
I dunno. Pete didn’t indicate whether they were wrinkly or not. I suppose a touch-up couldn’t hurt.
Ostrimu = Wit
Pete = Nitwit
This poetry is nice, but it lacks the pithy message of Red Table for sale! Take is for Free!!
I’ll trade you an “S” for a “T”…
No bird seed has been proffered, so I’m not doing it. 8)
Pete eventually realized he’s looking for sell in all the wrong places.
Sort of makes me think of a guy going to a bar to pick up on women. He’s sober and reasonable at first. Then the alcohol kicks in and he thinks he can snag that hot blonde with legs that don’t seem to stop. Bartender eventually yells for last call and Pete is willing to take home anything that remotely resembles a female.
That hot blonde would do well to see a doctor about her restless leg syndrome.
wanda, you may now wanda out of the box. (I crack myself up!) Punchity Punch Punch.
Good Morning, Olde Globe!