Can You Put A Dollar Amount On Integrity?

Times are tough and money is as short as George W. Bush’s attention span. So, what do we do? We sell stuff to those non-less fortunate than we are. Let’s face it… when the “have-nots” have a little, and the “have-lots” want more, they buy stuff from the “have-nots” at a reduced rate. That and prostitution keeps Craig’s List going.

So what do we sell? Do we sell our stuff that it took years and years of mindless impulse buying to accumulate? No. I like my furniture. I like my clothes. I like my collection of X-Files memorabilia that is absolutely worth nothing. Some day, I plan to hand it down to my grandchildren who will probably have to burn it for heat.

I could sell my plasma. I have an ample supply and as long as I’m not dead, my body will keep making more. From what I understand, a lot of people are doing that now since plasma-screen TVs have become much more popular than LCD.

After considerable thought, selling my plasma was a little too generic for me. So here’s a list of things I tried to sell: 

1. My Hair

I don’t have much left. When I get it cut short, my receding hairline and bald spot make me look like a poodle with mange. Comb-overs are a hassle. No matter how much gel or goop I put on my head, it will always dislodge and stick straight up. Not a good thing during springtime when birds are in mating season. Last year, I was dive-bombed by a sparrow that thought I was a rival.

My Trip to the Wig Shop

 

Me: I want to sell my hair so you can make it into a wig.

Wig-woman: It’s got gray in it. Nobody wants a gray wig. You ever see Dolly Pardon or Donald Trump with a gray wig?

Me: I thought Trump just had a comb-over?

Wig-woman: Think again.

Me: Can’t you just dye it?

Wig-woman: Why don’t you dye it red and try your luck tomorrow. No guarantees.

Me: But if you don’t buy my hair, I’ll look like a balding clown.

Wig-woman: Funny, that's the same thing I thought when you walked in. Now, get outta here. You’re scaring off my customers.

2. My sperm

No need to elaborate on this. I’m a guy. I have sperm. Why not make some money with it.

My Trip to the Sperm Bank

Me: I want to sell my sperm so you can make it into a person.

Sperm-woman: You don’t fit our profile.

Me: What’s your profile?

Sperm-woman: Six-four… Blue eyes… Ten percent body fat… and a college degree.

Me: How do you know I don’t have a college degree?

Sperm-woman: I saw your car.

Me: I think you’ve been watching too many soap operas.

Sperm-whale: I think if you don’t get outta here, I’m calling the cops. You’re scaring away my customers. 

3. My Body

I mentioned prostitution earlier. How about the world’s oldest profession? 

My Trip to an Out-of-the-way, Seedy, Low-lit Motel Lounge

Me: I want to sell you my body so you can make passionate love to it. Why are you laughing? That wasn’t a joke. Really, it’s not that funny!

Second Trip to an Out-of-the-way, Seedy, Low-lit Motel Lounge

Me: I want to sell you my body so you can—

Potential Jane: How much?

Me: Uh… what do you think is fair?

Potential Jane: For you… $5.00.

Me: Wow! I can buy a gallon of gas and a beef jerky. You gotta deal. Hey, don’t you think we should save the handcuffs for later?

Officer Jane: Not if you’re being arrested for solicitation.

4. Pyramids

Maybe I should try to sell something that’s not in any way related to my body or illegal in forty-eight states. 

My Trip Around the Neighborhood

 

Neighbor: Hello?

Me: I want to sell you some Amway so you can make lots of money with it.

Neighbor’s door: SLAM!

That endeavor led me to my next item up for sale.

5. A Punch In The Face

Nobody likes pyramid schemes, and even though they make a great concrete cleaner, nobody likes Amway anymore. I had better luck going door to door asking people if they would pay a dollar to punch me in the face. Turns out there are PLENTY of people in my neighborhood who wanted to punch me in the face. But, the more money I made, the more dental work I needed. And who has the money for a high-dollar deductible these days? So, I’m back where I started.

I guess I’ll just stick to selling my plasma. I hear it’s nice and they give you cookies and orange juice afterwards. But I don’t think I can ever watch my TV the same way again.