Psst! Hey You! Want To Buy Some Easter Bunny Eggs?
Alright enough with all the media “hype” about the black market. I’m getting sick of it. Whenever there is some creep selling something criminal it is always on the “black market.” I have never seen this place. It, like the Easter Bunny, does not exist! I one time even decided to go to Harlem looking for this mystical place. I went to a local bodega and asked the gentleman behind the counter for some fresh kidneys. Boy did he stare! Some black market, huh?
Seriously, news people, where are these places? And what kind of market would they be like if you know so much about them? I personally think they would be like Costco. Could you imagine that kind of place- a wholesale market full of kiddie porn, rape videos, and illegal children. All for a low price!
Buy 2, Get 2 Of Equal Or Lesser Value For Free!
Imagine going to the butcher area where they keep all the meat and it’s just loaded to the brim with human organs. “Hey babe, take a look at this… human livers! Buy 2, Get 2 Free! Hey, they have B+ honey… we’ve been looking for months! God I love this black market!”
The media always likes to put a negative spin on the black market. Man, this annoys me! I mean, they’ve got everything you want. Nuclear weapons, biological weapons, assault rifles, diamonds, turtle hatchlings, giant African land snails, and elephant tusks! You need that stuff for piano keys damnit! You can’t find that at a Whole Foods Market can you?
So stop hatin on them news media! Stop telling me about this market that apparently just does not exist because I have yet to see one! You also need to change the name if you’re going to keep talking about it! “Black market”- it is just not a very marketable name! You need something with more zing like “Shop Wrong!” If this place really exists I want to be able to join their bonus card club with my little plastic card for my key chain. That way I can rack up my savings in November and get my free bald eagle just in time for Thanksgiving dinner!
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09/16/09 - 11:26 am
I always picture the black market as some shady Arab guy who you buy pot from that lives in a basement apartment in a dark corner of the lower east side. You’re nervous but jonesing enough to go there and knock on the door. It’s open, and you are invited in with a friendly “Come in my friend, come in” he’s in his boxers watching MTV, stoned, with a 3 day stubble on his chin, empty domino’s pizza boxes on the counter and a spliff burning in the ash tray of a hookah, his Xbox is still on paused. Your first time buying from this guy, and you’re nervous, but his apartment resembles any other stoner’s dorm room. You hand him the cash, he pulls out your bag out of a cigar box on the coffee table. Seems like good hard kind budz. You say thanks, he says “any time my friend” and you turn to walk out. But on your way out you notice a slight smell of vinegar coming from a closet with the door half open, and inside you see a couple of RPG’s standing upright on a wooden crate with russian letters, and next to them is a bag of fertilizer, gallon jugs filled with clear liquid, and a pile of old cell phones, the big Nokia ones from the late 90′s.
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