These two adult items popped up on Craigslist recently:


These boobs were once part of the brow of a ship and I am sure people lined the shore to see it sail by! Anyway… I got them from a bartender in a little pub in the Florida Keys during a poker game he had the day he drove away forever. When his wife disappeared with a lucky skipper parked overnight in the local marina … the bartender/owner decided to sell everything and put the rest up in a poker game during last day of business on what he called Bitch Night.

No joke. These boobs now gotta go on the auction block. I painted them black. Any takers? They are real smoothies with large erect red nipples that I think are made of coral. The aureolas are mother of pearl. Beautiful breasts gotta have a loving home. Buy them quick before they jiggle away. Oh, by the way… If what you’re wanting are TITS, then these aren’t for ewe. These boobs are breasts. There is a refined difference only respected by mature adults.

First Made Plastic Adult Toy (collectible folk art)

This fine toy is the first assembly line made plastic manthing. It hasn’t had a lot of use, but remains in the near-perfect shape provided the first lucky owner. The cultured history of ownership accompanies this ten inch delight and will grace the wall of any Charleston historic district home vividly displayed in a fine wood case with beveled glass front. The gentlewoman (or man) will delight at the small glass breaker hammer is attached to the case with a delicate gold chain for use in unbearably tense moments. Just crack and grab. Instructions are included for the refined reader who can read. Use of imagination is recommended to deftly coordinate mechanical use with vivid images of your favorite television personality, or neighbor. If the size is not appropriate to owner anatomy, just feel for the hole in your head and insert. Saffron oil recommended to deter burns by friction. Scented wet-wipes included to remove lipstick from plastic after use. Pictures available by reservation ONLY.

The owner said he lived in Charleston’s historic district. We contacted him and had hoped for an interview, but the items were quickly sold and shipped to a foreign buyer. And all we’re left with is Al Parish’s stinkin’ gnomes.