Why wont anyone buy my crappy old broken bits of junk online?! *throws hands in the air*. Online selling is proving totally fruitless. It seems no one wants to buy my crap, I mean “treasures”. I had a PLAN. The PLAN was simple – other people will buy my stuff. It’s no good. Batman needs Robin. Maverick needs Goose. Woody needs Buzz. Shrek needs Donkey. Mamabear calls in Crawl for The Moon (@crawlforthemoon). I set him the task of helping me come up with alternatives to getting rid of my hoard. We differed in our approaches…
1) ) I will find The Junk Lady from the film Labrinth and become her BFF. You know the one? The one that hoards everything? We will both strap all our rubbish, I mean treasures, around our bodies and go walking round the town selling them (our stuff, not our bodies)
2) I will write to Channel 4 and get the contact details of all the hoarders they feature on their documentaries and go round their houses, bursting out of size 10 Coast dresses with their labels still on, (alas, never worn) carrying a nest of old scuffed coffee tables, sexily rustling old bags of mixed wool, huskily saying “I got wool for you”…*shimmies*
3) I will swallow my pride and my values and start being (ugh) over familiar with people on those local selling sites they have on facebook and the like. Calling them “hunny” and putting kisses under comments to people I have never met, will never meet, do not want to meet. I am basically a hoarding whore. “Hoard Whore”, that could be my handle.
4) I will start a company called “Tat for Gold”, make my own TV programme on Sky channel 99999, get idiots on board who will believe you can turn tat in to gold, then sell the programme rights before they realise there is no such thing as people buying tat for gold. By which time I will be on my own private island in Bermuda playing chess with Richard Branson using real life people as chess pieces.
5) I will lay it out on my lawn, not wash for a week, and say its “Art”. Phone The Sun up and wait for them to come round for my story. End up on Jeremy Kyle under caption “My husband makes me sleep in an antique bureau on the lawn, but I have a great game of Sylvannian Families going on whilst doing it!” but at least I get free overnight stay in a hotel in Manchester.
6) I will stuff my old pre-preg clothes with unused and forgotton about out of date supermarket coupons, making them into effegies of people. I will charge people who they want an effigy of and then make it, like those people do who get kids pictures and then turn them into toys…but more sinister. I will make the rest of the stuff into a BIG PILE and BURN it and charge people to enter. We will chant around it “Remember remember the end of June when Hannah’s stuff went up in a boom”…It will mega catch on and I will get Royalties from it when people recreate it every year and sing that catchy tune.
Take advice from the hoarder of all hoarders. I have so much childhood crap packed away in bags back at my parents house, that they had to buy a campervan and go and live in that in the garden. I even seem to have accidentally hoarded things that aren’t even mine, such as a collection of trading cards featuring different breeds of dogs given away with packets of Hamlet in the 1980’s, and an ancient police truncheon with the initials “GR” on, which I’ve had for at least twenty years. Unless I smoked cigars when I was nine years old, used to have a weird fascination with poodles (I’ve never even liked dogs much), and was in the police force when King George VI reigned, these things are not mine. I also have many albums worth of collectors cards given away with boxes of tea bags, based on baffling themes such as “ A Journey Downstream” and “Small Wonders”. The Journey Downstream one (below) looks like it’s been on ebay for a while and no-one has bid the 99p starting price yet.
I’m not sure what kind of weird child I must have been if I stood in the aisles of the local Key Markets and looked longingly at boxes of PG Tips thinking “I must talk mum into buying these, I love a journey downstream”.
But reading Hannah’s blog on her Ebay Day has made me realise that I must really get rid of this crap if I’m ever going to marry a nice, reasonable girl like her. Hmmm, maybe I’ll keep it after all ;) So she set me the challenge of coming up with ways to shift this shite and make some money from it, without taking the easy option of sticking it on ebay, where stupid people buy any rubbish. This isn’t an easy challenge. After checking ebay and realising even the stupid people aren’t interested in buying my prized collection of tea bag collectors cards, I’m struggling to think of ways to make any money out of this. So I started trying to think of ways to shift it without even trying to get any cash back…
1) “Why don’t you just throw the crap away?” you may be screaming with despair! You must be joking! Even though the law changed regarding dustbin fines recently ((http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-18254061) so now you can only get fined £80 for an overflowing bin now rather than £110, I’ve got so much crap that it’d overflow at least a hundred dustbins, and an £8000 fine is far too much. Could I put it in someone else’s bins? Possibly illegal and immoral, but tempting, very tempting.
2) I did consider buying a “fun-fare” ticket for a National Express coach, loading all the bags of crap into the luggage compartment as if it’s my luggage, getting off at the other end and leaving it there. These fun fares are quite cheap, and I also get a bonus day trip somewhere. I quite like a visit to the seaside when it’s not raining (so I haven’t been since 2006). The only downside I can think of is that I’d have to get back home somehow and I might get the same driver, who would surely recognise me and make me take it back. AND he may accuse me of also leaving other bags of unwanted rubbish that people who’ve read this blog have left after realising what a good idea it is! I’d have no chance of running away because there is so little leg room on those coaches that both of my legs are always asleep at the end of a journey and I can only stumble around looking like I’ve been bummed by an elephant.
3) Once I saw a man leave some junk outside a charity shop in the dead of night and run off quickly. This was in the “characteristic” Bedminster area of Bristol, and I couldn’t help having a nose into the bags to see what he’d left. Used bondage gear and “erotic” novels. Exactly what Oxfam were looking for I should imagine. I ran home and washed my hands.
4) I’ve also seen junk left out in the street with a sign saying “free crap to good home” on it. This generally seems to be done with huge, unflat-screen, old digital-incapable TVs. As if someone will be walking along the street and think “ah, I need an old shite TV, I’ll just stick that in my huge TV-sized rucksack and jog on home”.
You’re not supposed to try and watch it, you silly tramp-with-golden-seahorse-on-head!
Well if anyone else has any ideas to help me, and well, Crawl for the Moon (because if I don’t sell it, we all know what HE is getting for Christmas), please do, post them in comments. Much love. And if you want to follow Crawl for the Moon on twitter, please do so @CrawlForTheMoon