I’m packing up to move but I really don’t want to move everything, so I’ve decided to sell some stuff on ebay since that worked out so well last time. Except that ebay has a tendency to delete all of my auctions almost as soon as I post them so I’m also going to post the whole thing here to make it easier for me to keep relisting it. Also? Please stop fucking with me, ebay. I am trying to make you relevant again.
Actual ebay listing:
For sale: (Possibly magical) wolf head puppet. I bought this huge wolf-head puppet ten years ago at an old antique shop in West Texas. The guy who sold it to me said the puppet was made by a street-performing hobo who’d used it in his “Peter and the Wolf” one-man-play during the depression. I didn’t ask how he got it from the hobo because the guy at the shop seemed really odd and I suspected he might be some sort of mystical, unpredictable, hobo-killing gypsy but I totally fell in love with the wolf because he looked so damn enthusiastic and so I bought him even though my husband said that I was insane and threatened to hide all the credit cards from me until I could “start making responsible spending decisions” and I was all “Dude. It’s a hobo-crafted wolf-puppet bought from a gypsy. YOU CAN’T EVEN MAKE THAT STUFF UP.” And my husband was all “Not *every* long haired guy is a ‘magical gypsy‘. Sometimes they’re just hippies” but then when I tried to go back to the shop again a month later IT WAS GONE, y’all. BECAUSE IT WAS MAGIC. My husband says it was because I’m bad with directions and that I was probably just on the wrong street but I’m pretty sure it was gypsy magic. Or hippie magic. Which one smells like patchouli? That one.
Anyway, I loved my Wolfie puppet and I named him “Kristoffer Kristofferson” and he was bad-ass. He’s huge and takes two hands to operate and he’s made of tanned animal fur, felt, and I think his eyes are painted marbles. His mouth moves and his eyes open and close and if you pull on the wires inside his head his lips lift up like he’s snarling. Or smiling. It’s hard to tell with wolves. That’s why they’re so mysterious.
Tragically, I soon discovered that Kristoffer Kristofferson was not made from wolf fur at all, but from rabbit fur, which I am totally f***ing allergic to. It was a lot like when I was in 4th grade and all the girls in my class had rabbit fur coats but my family couldn’t afford one but then my mom found one at a garage sale for $5 and I totally wore it for a week straight and I even slept in it but then I broke out in a horrible rash and I tried to convince my mom that it was probably just heat rash (which is to be expected when you wear a rabbit fur coat in Texas in the middle of July) but she made me put the coat in the garage and told me that I could just “look at it from a distance whenever I was sad”. It was like the worst antidepressant ever.
So Kristoffer Kristofferson has been living in my closet ever since he gave me a rash, which is a terrible waste because he’s awesome and also because he’s probably some really amazing folk art made by a murdered hobo and sold by a magical gypsy. That’s why I’m starting the bidding at $20. Because he’s worth it. Kristopher Kristofferson needs to come out of the closet and love you up big time. Also, he likes cats. To eat.
Disclaimer: Kristoffer Kristofferson (the wolf) is in no way related to Kristoffer Kristofferson (the Grammy-award winning singer of “Jesus was a Capricorn”) although they both are bad-ass and might give you a rash.