Death of a Salesman

Good morning boys and girls and James Wood enthusiasts everywhere. I know it's not been a full week yet, only been two days by my calendar, but hell I like to randomly do shit when I feel inspired/bored. I'll let you reader folk figure out which one I was for the birth of this post. Now then, in life we all have certain skills. Some people can dive head first into water, play the final fantasy games, or simply exist without purpose. I cant do any of those, but I'm a visionary like that. There are however certain skills I am very good at. Things like interpretive dance, starting fires, being electrocuted, and fighting bears. But one thing I'm good at that most people don't realize, is that I'm good at selling shit. I'm not talking about cool gadgets or products that have a useful purpose, I'm talking things that make you go "What the fuck is that and why do I need it? Also, where are your pants?"

Infomercials. I tend to watch a lot of them, it's what happens when you're up all night and there's nothing on TV. And at first, they make you want to stab yourself in the brain with a Q-Tip until you no longer feel the demons behind your eyes telling you what to do. (Everyone has those right?) But after awhile, you feel inspired, you learn the tips of the trade, and then one glorious day you decide...."hey...I could do that!" And so begins the mighty task of being able to sell completely random crap. Now, before you say "How hard can it be to sell stuff?" Remember, infomercials come in several categories, three of which are prominent. New and improved gadgets (not sure how it can be new and improved, either or people), life insurance/time share (Erik Estrada sells time share in Bella Vista Arkansas), and stuff that makes no sense (Girls Gone Wild: Loss of Self Esteem 2008).

Whether you intend to sell non-peak vacation hour at some crappy motel, or cheap porn, there are a few rules to being an infomercial sellionaire (see what did there, I made up a word...I like parentheses bubbles) The first thing you need, is a complete lack of shame. And I lost that along with common sense and admirable morals a long time ago. (stupid french) Once you have those, it time to suit up. Here's a handy check list of what you will be wearing

• Blue or purple polo shirt
• Khaki Pants
• Unnatural looking facial hair
• An awkwardly out of date microphone/head set
• Shifty eyes
• A bright silver watch (obviously I have to use gold, stupid curse of the lycan)

Now that you've donned your grifter attire, it's time to sell that crap. Personally, I like the random crap things people make up. Except the Sham wow...that thing is amazing...it can abosorb so much liquids. Obviously when you people think of me several colorful adjectives come to mind:

• Hero
• Dream weaver
• Lovable scamp
• Suspect number 3
• Lord of the dance
• Son of a bitch (my mom calls me that the most)

Therefore, only a few things come to mind that I'd possibly sell. And if you guessed automated monkey butler, youd be horribly wrong, you cant have an automated monkey, it would be a cyborg and an abomination to God. No, what dark and horrid item I would sell woul be none other than the Neverstop Knitting Needles. What are neverstop knitting needles you ask? Well they actually have nothing to do with knitting or needles at all. Rather they are a form of Wombat war armor. Wombats are obviously the one thing that can stad toe to toe with a vicious raccoon and kick its furry ass. They are also so damned adorable.

Now that you people have been inspired by my insightful and wisdomatic ramblings, I challenge you each and all to go out and sell something we don't need. But make sure it can cut through a steel plate and then perfectly slice a tomato unhindered.