GOOD LORD MAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING

So I'm orchestrating a bunch of shit, including but not limited to my very first show! It will be sometime in April at my alma mater, details to follow. Still chugging away at my novel, chapter 2 of nine will be done by the next week, I'll keep you posted. Definitely going to step up production on that, as I've been slacking lately.

Same with this job thing, if any of you have connections with the SCA or Americorps, let me know.

Anyway, I have been posting some silly craigslist ads lately, I thought you might enjoy them. They will also be preserved below, for when craigslist drops my brilliance like the hot potato it is.

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So my uncle has this job for the US Government, it's all very secret and hush-hush but basically he's like Jason Born made a baby with two James Bonds (basically any of them except for Roger Moore and Timothy Dalton) and gets to travel around the world and shoot guns at interesting objects.

Well he was fistfighting some Mongolians in an ancient temple under Tibet (this was, oh, 88, 89, or so) when he accidentally triggered a pit trap which landed him on this couch which was just so comfortable he couldn't move for like 3 months.

"Well my boy" he used to say to me "I have been around this world and back a few times, and jiminy christmas let me tell you there is nothing between Man and God that is just as down-right comfortable as that couch was." A single tear would fall down his cheek and he'd eat a worther's original candy. He had a huge bowl of them and they mostly stuck together and tasted like ass, but I think that's just worther's in general. "It was like riding a dragon made out of marshmallows."

Well I ended up going to school for business, and I founded a successful business selling things for money, and I used my incredible empire (I don't want to tell you the name of it but it's Dollar General) to travel back to that temple and take the couch, as well as a few priceless heirlooms that I use for skeet shooting because fuck history I got things to shoot.

So yeah, this couch, you want this couch. It comes with a free cover for it, which can reflect most kinds of magic and radiation (it's weak against fire-type spells and techniques, so if you get into a fight with say a pyromancer you will be SOL if you dive behind this for cover) and also can be used as an awesome cape if you have some kids who want to play as Triple Batmen. You could also use this as cover if you make a couch fort. . . Just watch out for Fireballs.

Hit me up. I don't have a car as I am a broke-ass writer but I will help carry this to your coupe or dad's van. Ideal for college kids who want a couch they wouldn't mind spilling bong water onto. (herbal blends only, am I right kids? Yes. Yes, I am.) Fits through 30-inch door, seats two comfortably, can seat three if you don't mind a bit of thigh-rubbing (and who minds, really? boring people. boring people can't have this couch.)


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So a while back I was doing tech support for this gypsy woman (she sold stuff on Etsy) who had a self-storage space full of like really nice furniture and also a foosball table that came from this dude she hooked up with a while who eventually got busted for doing some illegal gypsy magic on two goats.

The goats were confiscated by the county and sold off at auction. They later went on to become Leonard Cohen. Also the dude sold pot to some children who were undercover cops.

So anyway I was helping her get rid of the stuff, and as payment she made it so that my dad meant it when he said he was proud of me, but also she gave me a couch since you can't eat cereal and watch cartoons on pride.

(or can you??? note to self- investigate that later)

So anyway, she was wearing her gypsy finery, ears all a-bangled and whatnot, fingers encrusted with jewels like a birch tree in February, when she produced a curiously blue potion from out of nowhere.

"Ah, my child, this! This was given to me by a fakir learned in the ways of immortality!" She wiggled her fingers and made 'ooh' and 'ahh' noises at it. "This potion shall grant you UNNATURAL LONG LIFE! And the ability to turn into a racecar WHENEVER YOU WANT!"
"That's great, hey what are you going to do with the couch that didn't sell?" I asked, pointing to a totally rad gray couch sitting by it's lonesome next to a bust of Marie Antoinette's severed head.
"Oh, that? That's going to the Salvation Army to become a bed for someone with calloused feet." She waved her hand dismissively and tried to hand me the potion.
"Wait a tick!" I said, putting my Thinking Trousers on my head. "Why should some shiftless layabout get such a dandy-fine bit of furniture when all I have is my bed, a family, friends who love me, and an apartment full of very nice things? Also a girlfriend I think?" I took my pipe out of my cardigan pocket and started Patriarching it up a notch. "Why, that doesn't strike me as American at all!"
"Well it's not, right now you're living on Mars." Also, she was a Martian gypsy. I think I mentioned that before.

So basically I took the couch and left the potion sitting next to the bust of Marie Antoinette (it was crying blood) and dragged the couch back to my apartment, on America's Earth. I found that it was both super comfortable and an absolute chick magnet, bitches had to start weaving Farraday cages into they jeans if they wanted to sit down, it was so magnetic. It was comfortable, too! Like, imagine riding a dragon made out of marshmallows. That comfortable.

Also, it comes with a cover that is awesome at reflecting stains. I should know, as I once used my magic powers to defeat a monster made entirely out of stale beer and bongwater, and it exploded all over the couch because it was just that much of a douchebag. I tossed the cover in a laundry machine and it was all like BITCH I'M SO CLEAN RIGHT NOW and we spent the rest of the day just laughing our asses off at internet videos.

The couch is a really cool dude too, we got super close and moved in for a while, but he never paid rent and just sat around all day absorbing farts, so eventually we drifted apart. I started sitting on other couches, he got really jealous and started freebasing couch cleaner, yelling weird things at three in the morning like I AM THE REASON PEOPLE KNOW WHO ROBESPIERRE IS! and THEY INVENTED DEMOCRACY BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH OF A COMPLETE DOUCHEBAG I WAS. Anyway, so I got assigned to go fight off the Gypsy Invasion on Mars, and as I was catching up with my friend Gypsy, she revealed to me (through her crystal ball) that the couch was the phylactery of King Louis the XVI (pronounced "ecks-vee-eye") who was so evil he was like two Voldemorts put together, except he had magic powers that weren't totally retarded.

I mean seriously Voldemort had like two spells, "Murder" and "Red Lightning Thing" and that second one didn't even work at all, it's like why even bother if you're going to suck that hard, you know? Let the teenage virgin kill you before he gets his first boner, that's how much of a tard he was.

King Louis, however, he had spells like "Huge Hair", "Ham Buffet", "Transmute Fop to Dandy" and other fine displays of arcane wonder. He also once ate an entire rabbit live, just to show up the English, who generally boil theirs first.

But anyway, so yeah me and the couch have broken up and it's just awkward with him sitting in my apartment sadcouching it all up, so he needs to find a new home. Someone who will sit on his face and listen to his tales of all the folks he sent to the dungeon.

Thanks and Martian God bless.