Ah, the diamonds you can find on Craigslist.

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http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/608546617.html
Fixed Gear Death Trap

Date: 2008-03-16, 6:33PM PDT


I'm selling a complete fixed gear. It is totally ready to ride and will probably kill you.

I pushed it into a bike shop recently to have the rear wheel trued. At the bottom of my receipt it read, 'My advice, get a new bike.' So, I am. And maybe you are too! He was reserved enough not to use the words 'death' or 'trap,' but I'm not!

The frame is probably an old Raleigh that could have been worth something. It's rattlecanned and chipping rapidly. The paint is almost completely gone where my car's bike rack grips. There are, however, parts of the bike that are still entirely painted.

Looking a little deeper, the headset is completely ****ed. Unless you can ride a unicycle, you can't ride this bike with no hands. I'm expecting something terrible to happen in the headset in the next few rides that will pitch me onto the pavement. For the right price, this could be you!

Also, the pedals were never supposed to house toe cages. So, the cages are kind of ruined and inoperable. Sometimes when I'm skidding, my front foot will almost slip out and I'll get all wobbly before righting myself. During these moments, my eyes are usually plate-wide with terror. This could be your terror!

There are still front and rear brakes installed, because it was always kind of a half-assed conversion. These could definitely be removed, though. The bike shop guy even tightened up the rear brakes for me. You could be the only fixie rider in SF with fully functional rear brakes.

But the brake cables are also completely shot, so I wouldn't count on it.

The handlebar tape is falling off and one of the plugs is missing.

Also, I don't remember what kind of cranks are on it but the pedals are super long. Every now and then when you're riding they slam off the ground and get more ruined. Again, there's some aspect of terror here.

The gear ratio is 52/20. The rear tire is flat and the Presta valve is broken off.

This bike is what my brother affectionately refers to as a 'time bomb.' Why? Because there's no track hub or cog. Actually, there's a freewheel with loctite in it. So far, I've been able to learn how to ride fixed on this setup without it falling apart. But someday it will. And when it does, someone is going to get ****ing screwed.

I paid $80 for it 8 months ago in Buffalo. Considering we're in San Francisco, the asking price is $350. I think that's only fair.

Manly bike for sale. *LANGUAGE*
 
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/van/881960503.html

To the guy who drank from the can of Pepsi he found on the ground... - w4m

Date: 2008-10-16, 2:26PM PDT


I thought that was pretty gross at first, but the more I thought about it throughout the day, the more I was charmed by it. I can tell you are outgoing and uninhibited by social norms and I find that very sexy. It inspired me to fish a half-eaten doughnut out of a trash can on my way home from work. It tasted awful, but I felt so liberated.

You where dressed kind of poorly and your hair was unkempt (clearly unwashed), but I get the impression that your just a free spirit with bigger priorities then basic hygiene. Perhaps your a modern Aristotle?

Would love to discuss Kierkegaard or Nietzsche with you sometime, perhaps over a can of Pepsi? My treat.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/pit/884255877.html
The guy who mugged me - m4m

Date: 2008-10-18, 2:59PM EDT


Thanks chief, you really made my evening. I was just thinking a few days ago "wow it's be a while since anyone stuck a gun in my face" Then you came along like a soft breeze in the night.

I think you did a pretty good job, however I could offer a few pointers.

1. After someone has turned out their pockets, that means they are empty.
2. If I don't have a wallet why would I have a bank card?
3. While I didn't have anything in them, I had more pockets than you checked.
4. People often times hide money/drugs in their shoes or socks. Make sure to check those on your next target.
5. A simple please and thank you are always welcome
6. I can understand why you took my cellphone, you didn't want me calling the cops. But really, it's the only thing I had. Why not just strip the battery or something? I really needed that. Plus the thing is like 8 years old, you can't even sell it. Jerk.
7. Pick better targets, Occams razor might help here. If he looks poor then it leads to believe that he is poor. Why risk jail time, and serious time at that over a poor guy, at least get some cash outta the deal.
8. By being a African American mugger you are really reinforcing stereotypes.

I hope this helps mugger, I really hope you are enjoying my phone. I kept calling but you won't pick up. I'm so sad :(

Also, quick note to the cops. A guy at 3 in the morning jumping up and down and waving his arms in an X shape over his head needs help, he is NOT waving hello. But thanks for smiling and waving back, really made my night.

To the cars who wouldn't stop for me in south oakland, looking back I don't blame you. I hear there are criminals on the streets.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/865564186.html
To the girl who stole my bike as a gesture of flirtation - m4w

Fecha: 2008-10-03, 8:04PM EDT


I love how well you get me--you know that the way to my heart is through my bike, and I can only assume that you cut the chain binding my '86 Benotto to that stop sign in East Williamsburg late Thursday night in the hopes of starting a conversation with me. It was a really gutsy plan.
"Oh hey," you’d say as I walked up. "I was just stealing your bike."
"What the ****?" I'd say.
"I feel terrible," you'd say. And then you'd say something cute to move things along, like "Can I make it up to you with coffee?"

I totally understand where you were coming from--we all have a hard time starting a conversation with the person we have a crush on. Your plan was actually really good and clever and I am just so so bummed that we missed each other. I can imagine how awful you felt--it's midnight in East Williamsburg and you're standing there holding 3-foot-long garden clippers and feeling very, very conspicuous. There’s a busted chain pooled at your feet and a beautiful old white Italian racing bike with blue highlights and red handlebar tape leaning up against a stop sign, and I'm nowhere in sight. You're starting to wonder whether I'm ever going to show up. Maybe I've gone to Arizona for the weekend or something.

Then you realize, with a sense of dread that grows and grows the longer you wait, that you can't just leave the bike there and abandon the whole plan--the chain is well and truly cut, so the bike isn't secure anymore and it would be all too easy for some complete and total ****ing asshole to walk away with it and make maybe $150 selling my most beloved possession and possibly greatest and most trusted friend so far in New York. If this were to happen, if this hypothetical asshole were to walk away with my bike, which I just spent my first month here searching for and then carefully patching up and tuning, then where would all my love for this bike go? It would simply vanish. The bike would be reduced to an object of monetary value and I would be reduced to a guy who has to find a new bike. There would be measurably less love in the world, and the hypothetical asshole who had stolen my bike would therefore be a destroyer of love. A Love Destroyer.

You, of course, could not allow this to happen. The destruction of love is antithetical to your core mission in life, which is to create love, more love, for me. So you decided to take the bike for safe-keeping. THANK YOU. I cannot express how grateful I am and how eager to finally to have our long-awaited conversation, which might honestly be a little awkward now but will be well worth it. I've been pretty lonely in my first month in New York and kind of missing my ex-girlfriend and frankly I'm just really flattered that you've taken an interest in me.

I can't wait to meet you. And to get my bike back.


http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/van/849936725.html
Panties, size 8-10

Date: 2008-09-21, 5:49PM PDT


To the woman in the laundromat who threw her panties into my washing machine, I just want to say thank you.

Thank you for my new panties, I've never owned any before. I'm not exactly sure how they got there as I left as soon as I started the machine, and didn't come back until the wash was finished. I can only assume that you're so hard up for money that you decided to save 6 quarters and threw your laundry in with mine once I'd left, and after it was done removed them and paid for your own dryer. The only problem is you forgot one pair of black and white, zebra-striped panties in the machine. I dried them with my clothes thinking that you might discover they were missing, and I was going to toss them to you if you came back to look for them.

It really is too bad you didn't come back. I'm wasn't exactly sure what a size 8-10 is, but once I got home I tried them on and found they fit rather nicely. I've never wanted to wear women's panties before, and they were a little tight to get on due to the fact my package kept wanting to jump out of the front, but I must say the zebra-stripe pattern looks rather flattering on me. In fact I'm wearing them (and nothing else) as I type this..... can you say sexy?

I think I'll take a picture of myself in your panties (face omitted of course) and post it on the laundromat's bulletin board so you can see what became of them. I'll make sure it's a front shot because while they're extremely tight up front, the backside seems incredibly loose and there's a lot of extra fabric flapping around. You must have some serious action going on back there.... Now that I think of it, I should be able to mail the panties back to you, I'm pretty sure your ass must have it's own postal code. Hopefully you wrote it down on the little tag.

ps. please use fabric softener next time.


http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/min/813539095.html
Very exciting gravel giveaway - about 1/2 yard

Date: 2008-08-26, 9:02AM CDT


Well its about to happen again...it's going to snow and it will cover the gravel pile in my driveway. I will then be fooled into thinking that I or my wife was too lazy to totally push the snow out of the driveway and cleverly left piled it kind of out of the way.

Not this year! No stinking way! For I am taking action and going the distance! I am saying to the whole world via this posting on craigslist that the pile of gravel is up for grabs! Hey, are you the right person for free gravel?

Things to consider:

-Moving gravel is a great work-out. I'm big and strong today thanks to my gravel moving routine.

-Kids love gravel. I am constantly telling all sorts of kids to get away from my gravel/snow pile. SHOO!

-Go Green. Go gravel.

-Women love gravel. I often look out the window to see my wife looking over the gravel pile and shaking her head in amazement.

-Gravel has staying power. Its has stayed in my drive way for two years!

-Food and drink taste better after moving gravel.

There are more considerations, obviously. But you also need to know that the gravel that will allow to finally finish that project and one-up your neighbors before fall comes is located at:

[ ADDRESS DELETED]

Bring a shovel, your vehicle and all the excitemt you can muster! It's gravel!
813539095.jpg


Thank you.
 
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There are still front and rear brakes installed, because it was always kind of a half-assed conversion. These could definitely be removed, though. The bike shop guy even tightened up the rear brakes for me. You could be the only fixie rider in SF with fully functional rear brakes.

But the brake cables are also completely shot, so I wouldn't count on it.

:lol:
 
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/all/

To the Minotaur that lives above me.

Date: 2008-06-26, 10:36AM CDT


First off, I must say that I admire your courage. It must be hard living in the world today as a lady-beast. Society judges, oh lord do they ever.

With that said, let’s get down to business. Over the past year, we've had a funny sort of relationship, you and I. When I first moved into the place, it was rather peaceful. It was an exciting time in my life, as it was the first time I would be living by myself. Then came the day that I first heard it. What did I hear you ask? It was sound of your hooves galloping across the hardwood floors of your living room. At the time I thought, “No big deal, surely it can’t always be like this.” Oh was I wrong. It turned out that every time I was at home, you would be up there, stomping around, like the wild lady-beast that you are.

After a few weeks, I determined through a process of elimination, that you are in fact, a Minotaur. It only makes sense.

FACT. Minotaurs have hooves, and that’s sure as hell what it sounds like is hitting the floor when you gallop around.

FACT. A Minotaur posses great strength, the kind of strength that can be felt by a guy laying on his couch, trying to get into a good book. The kind of strength that shakes the dishes in his cupboards. The kind of strength that can wake a guy out of a dead sleep, EVERY FRICKIN MORNING. I didn’t even need to set an alarm clock to wake up in the morning. Instead I wake up to THUMP THUMP THUMP. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. THUMP THUMP THUMP. I’m not a light sleeper by any means; I sleep right through the viscously loud police, fire truck, and ambulance sirens every night. I was lying there one morning, frustrated, counting the trips you took between your bedroom and your bathroom. 17. 17 god forsaken trips between the bedroom and the bathroom. Really? Are you kidding me? What could you possibly be doing?

FACT. Minotaurs are half bull. Bulls are aggressive when taunted. Apparently, the time I went upstairs, politely introduced myself, and asked you rather nicely to please quit stomping around, was a taunt. That’s when you got aggressive. You called the landlord and told him that I was complaining about your noise. When he told me about this, he said his response to your complaint was, “Quit making so much noise then.” Brilliant. Go Mr. Landlord! I tried keeping him out of this, but you felt it important to drag him into it.

After a few more weeks of you recklessly stomping around, I made another attempt at a civil confrontation. It failed. It failed because you stomped your way to the door, and you didn’t open it when you saw who was standing there. I know this because I heard your hooves clippity-clop their way to the door. Way to avoid confrontation.

To my surprise, the stomping ceased the next day, and I awoke to peace. “Amazing,” I thought, “It must be a midsummer miracle!!” A few days passed, and I ran into my landlord in the entry way. He mentioned that he received another angry phone call from you. Said that you felt threatened by my confrontations, said I scared you. Strange, since not once did I ever raise my voice or try to be anything but civil. He then mentioned that he told you to buy some slippers to wear around your apartment. Genius! It freakin worked!! Hell yea, Mr Landlord! High five!

Fast forward 11 months. The stomping has returned. No doubt in my mind the hooves have worn through the delicate fabrics of the slippers and are now, once again, banging against your hardwood floors.

Please, for the love of sweet baby jesus, run down to the local Target and purchase yourself another pair of hoof mufflers. I know you can run with those strong legs of yours, probably real fast like! Target downtown is all of 10 blocks away. Go Minotaur, go! Overcome the odds, society is watching! (and judging)
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Autographed copy of the Bible - $1,000,000,000 OBO

Date: 2008-07-16, 2:27PM PDT


I have a near-mint copy of the Bible, signed by the Big J.C. himself. According to Amazon, this is one of the better selling books of all time. I'm guessing the Prince of Peace would be happy to hear that.

This book was entrusted to me by the Knights of Templar, they borrowed it from Our Savior sometime between 28 and 32 AD and forgot to give it back. It was one of those things where they said they'd return it in a week, but then they didn't get around to reading it right away. And you know how you always feel bad returning a book you haven't read, especially when the lender asks you what you thought of it. So in trying to avoid an awkward moment with the Alpha and Omega, they hung onto it until they had more time. Well that time turned into about 2000 years, and it got mixed in with some other books and made it into a yard sale box.

At first, the King of Kings' signature wasn't worth much, but after Our Redeemer died on the cross for your sins, apparently the value skyrocketed and then rose more gradually over the next 2000 years as more people learned of the Good Shepherd's story.

Why am I selling it? I could say that I'm interested in sharing the Word of God with someone else - become a "Fisher of Men" so to speak. But the truth is I just bought an Xbox 360 and don't have room on the bookshelf for both. I'll either use the money to fight world hunger, or buy that Rock Band game I've been hankering for.
 
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