67Dart273
Well-Known Member
So I can tell this moron to his face how full of crap his is
http://spokane.craigslist.org/hab/4310792373.html
THE SHORT STORY: (for people debilitated with ADHD)
Buy this absolutely fabulous mechanized sitting machine. (aka: wheelchair.)
$222 OBO - I also like to barter (I like to sell things for odd amounts, don't ask)
Call me: 208-597-1747 (Call me any time, any place, any where: My name is James.)
Incredible product. (It's the next best thing to working legs and feet, hands down.)
Incredible price. (The MSRP is like 5k! Buying it at this price is like MAKING money.)
Help me, help you, to help me give you the gift of mobility. (Just because I want compensation for : my contribution doesn't negate the fact that this is a selfless and philanthropic act on my part.)
THE LONG STORY: (For people who are open-minded, and crave knowledge and detail, High School Diploma Required No GED. You must be my educational contemporary to continue)
This is a quality working Scooter chair made by the reputable Invacare corporation. If you're familiar with this company, you know their products are built to last. I don't even work there and I can attest to the craftsmanship the Invacare employees invest in each chair that rolls off the assembly line. This chair will probably outlast me, so I'd like to see it in the hands of someone who can appreciate it. The particular model of this specific chair is the Ranger 2. The feeling upon sitting in this chair reminds me of being effortlessly lifted by two very strong Army Rangers, and I reckon that's probably why it's called the "Ranger 2." I honestly believe this chair has several quality years of life left in it. Unfortunately, I do not have working batteries for this chair. Once you acquire the necessary batteries, which I have recently priced for $100 total, you will have a smooth ride from your restroom to kitchen. Or vice versa. This really is a great means of locomotion for the disabled, elderly, excessively lazy OR and can also be a snowy day entertainment ride for kids cooped up with excess energy. Once you sit in it, you'll probably offer me $1000. I mean, it does retail for $5000. I could never take advantage of your generosity and would insist on the maximum I could accept is $800. [This was the past, now I can only accept $222 because I'm more charitable than last week. I just watched "A Christmas Carol" and it floored me. Ghosts are scary!]
You know those commercials where the guy is outside in a National Park in his scooter chair? At one time it was very difficult for me to believe that a person could scoot around in the outdoors or woods in a scooter chair. This chair proved my skepticism wildly unnecessary. I have taken this chair on multiple vacations, out into the woods regularly, and have even hunted elk on a few occasions. Despite all my rugged endeavors, this chair has held its beauty very nicely. From one stand-up American to another, I would love to pass to you: the torch that is this scooter chair and all the gifts of mobility it has the capacity to bestow. You may sense my deep affection for this chair in the description. And I see that it may inspire you to ask "why would James Boom-Boom Johnson even think about selling this chair that has made his life so much easier?" Well I've regained the use of my once feeble, varicose veined legs. We can discuss it at my house, but please don't feel as though you are obligated to engage in a long, arduous conversation about things that don't interest you should you visit my home. I am also quite happy just pointing at the chair and letting you look it over yourself without any sales pitch. Also, the manual for this, a mere 60 pages of detailed owner resources, is available with purchase at no additional charge. I would happy to read all 60 pages in audio book format, if you are vision impaired. Just ask. My younger live-in home health aid (and amateur magician) Jesse has expressed willingness to load this chair into your vehicle should you need that service. He is also available to assist you in the purchase of new batteries. He is an amazing bargain shopper and will make sure you get the best deal out there. It would really help me out if you could watch perhaps 2-5 minutes of his magic show, if you decide to purchase the chair. Please note: YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO WITNESS A MAGIC SHOW IF YOU'RE JUST COMING TO SEE THE CHAIR AND CONSIDER PURCHASE. To the lucky purchaser: I know watching a bad magic show is a lot to ask, but please just chalk it up to assisting the elderly (me) in avoiding a poorly constructed magic show for the 46th time and feigning interest. It's becoming a challenge and his "illusions" don't seem to get any better with practice. You're the customer, and the customer is always right. If my warm, open and emotional nature makes you in any sense uncomfortable, please just let me know and I will accommodate your request. All I want to see is this chair in the right hands, or legs, and making someone else as happy as it's made me. Thank you for your interest in one of the world's most revered tools for mobility. Ranger 2. By Invacare. Get where you need to go. Do they already have a motto? I should call them and offer "get where you need to go" because it's exactly how I feel when using the chair.
So, I will absolutely not be hurt if you don't have time to spend with me before or after your evaluation of the chair. I get it. My grandchildren don't like to spend time here either. The world is changing, and you don't want to be left behind. This scooter chair will keep you up to pace with your grandchildren's interests, such as staring into ipod and playing great theiving auto V and mutated karate turtles on x-station 3. I may never understand youth again, but I sure know I always felt 40 years younger in this chair, wheeling around the house at my leisure. Not having to ever stand (because I was sitting in the chair, of course) really helped me maintain my energy, and stay up until at least Wheel of Fortune started. I really always considered it a mild version of Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth...only in chair form. This chair has seen good times, better times and even the best of times... all beneath the back of the bottom of me: an American Hero, Idaho Native and High School graduate. This wheelchair's legacy is intertwined with mine, and for an insignificant fee, your legacy can wiggle its way in here too, straight into the history books next to me. It will be like our legacies were playing Twister together and someone came along and dipped them in carbonite, just like Jabba the Hut did, when he paid Darth Vader to deliver Han Solo to him in a classic Star Trek episode. Your present reputation and everlasting legacy will ride atop the shoulders of my legacy, which is already taller than most... so your legacy would be higher, in status, than say, the world's tallest man wearing platform shoes and walking on stilts at a carnival populated solely by very small children who are being supervised by adults who drank lots of caffeine during their childhood, so it looks like they suffer from dwarfism - or maybe they're all just midgets, who knows? I agree that it would be crazy to witness a carnival populated solely by tiny people and children, but this is just a simile. Wait, no: metaphor? One of those I think. Don't actually waste time imagining a carnival like that though. Kindly keep your attention on this wheelchair and all the perks that come with it being pre-infused with my essence. Let's make history, together, and with any luck, years from now this wheelchair will rest under a glass case in a Bonner County history museum as the trusty mechanical steed that liberated not one, but two of Idaho's biggest gems from the curse of immobilization. Of course, I mean yourself and me. You see, Idaho's slogan is "The Gem State," so when I say "Gem," I'm using it to refer to fabulous people, and not tiny bits of compressed carbon that formed into diamonds millions of years ago from intense pressure and heat, inside a volcanic kimberlite pipe. So I guess I'm using a simile or a metaphor again? One of the two. My fatal flaw is that I always get those two words confused whenever I compare one thing to another thing, or try to point out the similarities of two things that are on the surface totally different, but share one or two often overlooked intrinsic qualities. Look, I'll be the first to admit that I really didn't pay much attention in my high school english class, but that didn't keep me from practicing law as a paralegal. It's kind of like how Erin Brokovich practiced law by doing all the real legwork, but then just couldn't get any official credit for it because she hadn't passed the BAR. You know what? I manipulated a passing grade in my English class by attending summer school not once, but TWICE. And still, I attended the SAME graduation ceremony as all those other kids who wasted their childhood reading and memorizing boring facts, testing hypotheses with their fancy graph paper, and plotting routes on their x/y axis. Just because you can draw a perfect circle with your compass doesn't make you some sort of super genius with some sort of high IQ who can calculate the trajectory of some sort of spaceship with finger-paints. When Dustin Hoffman played that one guy in Rainman, I bet he couldn't draw a perfect circle either, even though he could count poker cards and memorize multiplication tables on par with the best autistic counters alive. Anyway, you'd better believe that I sleep soundly at night knowing that my High School degree makes me just as well read and learned as any of my so called "classmates," none of whom, I guarantee, have the means to purchase a wheelchair anywhere near this fabulous. If they did, it certainly wouldn't be a wheelchair such as this one that has soaked up the priceless moments of a life like mine. Mine has truly been a life less ordinary!
It's really an insult to engineering and technology to call this a wheelchair. This is a true modern marvel, like things on that History Channel program called Modern Marvels. I'm sure that you know which one I'm talking about. I'll be back in a bit, because I'm going to write them a letter right now. I need to let them know that they should do their next show about the Invacare Ranger 2. I just had the epiphany that I've repeatedly made the mistake of considering this a wheelchair, when it's clearly more of an electric ATV from the future, that has traveled back though time to rescue the handicapped and eradicate immobility. Perhaps it's more like a Prius...a custom Prius built by those guys on the Discovery Channel who customize motorcycles to shoot flames, and then they apply flame decals everywhere, so that the whole bike just looks like one big flaming flame that actually shoots flames as an excessively dangerous novelty. Close your eyes and just imagine - if you will - a Prius that will be stripped down to the wheels, seat and batteries, then infused with an awesome legacy [mine] from a real Gem of a person [me], then sold at a very reasonable price to another Gem of a person [you] who clearly has an eye for quality and appreciates the finer things in life [like the legacy of my life], then said wheelchair plays a pivotal role in skyrocketing said second owner into the stratosphere of handicapped society's social elite. You can open your eyes now, if you closed them a few sentences ago. So the wheelchair then serves said second owner well and without fail to their dying day, and through some quirk of fate gets found by a philanthropic historian at one of those antique roadshows. There it's deemed to be so valuable that it's priceless, and donated to the state of Idaho which recognizes it as a state treasure, and gives the antique appraiser like, unlimited credit on their state taxes or something. It seems perfectly realistic that the State of Idaho might even pay the appraiser a lifelong pension just for their contribution to preserving Idaho's most valuable state treasure. In this potential scenario, you and I, seller and buyer, really have given Idaho a great gift, and it's totally incomparable to everything Idaho currently lays claim to. I envision that this scooter then gets encased in a vacuum-sealed, bulletproof glass enclosure that rests under lock & key in a high security wing of a government owned building. Then they give tours as they open this building to the public for a fee, and our wheelchair is protected 24/7 by armed guards, where it will be appreciated by grateful Idahoans for many thousands of years to come.
Are you still questioning why this wheelchair is so extremely unique and special? Great! I'm so glad that you were wondering about this, because I would love to tell you this story which is one of the highlights of my life. Are you ready to have your mind blown? One word: Hollywood. Now that I have your interest, I'm sure you'd like me to elaborate on this. Don't worry, I will. Twenty years ago in 1994, I was one of Tom Hanks many co-stars in the best movie of all time -- Forrest Gump. I warned you that your mind would be blown, so I am not liable for any aneurysm you have just suffered. I do apologize in the even that your stroke has permanent effects, though. So back to the most interesting story of this scooter chair's life. Technically, in Forrest Gump, I was called an "extra," so you won't find my name in the credits, but I established a deep bond with Tom Hanks during the filming. I should have been listed as a creative consultant in the credits, because Tom Hanks on more than one occasion asked me specific details about how handicapped and mentally challenged people would react in certain scenes he was working on. So, you know that one line where Tom Hanks references life being edible like a box of chocolate donuts? I was the one who first made that connection between life and chocolate. It bloomed into a magical moment in movie history, all while I was sitting in this breathtaking piece of mobility machinery. Something else the next owner must be aware of: one morning Tom Hanks and I were out exercising. He was in his short-shorts, and me in my Invacare Ranger 2. He twisted his ankle on a tree root, and he couldn't continue jogging, so I offered him a seat in my lap. As we effortlessly whizzed back to the studio, Tom Hanks expressed that he found the ride smooth, fluid, and best of all, intimate and touching. This wheelchair brought me and Tom Hanks closer together than I feel any other wheelchair could have possibly done. He was so impressed with this chair, he asked to borrow it for the day to scoot around the set. Obviously, he was just showboating for all the other actors, but that is certainly within the province of an A-list movie star of the American silver screen. So although I would be stationary for a while, his elevated mobility meant so much to me, him, and Hollywood that I couldn't turn his request down. Our friendship would never be the same. We were so close, and I felt like a father-figure to him, offering him wisdom that can only come from the experiences of someone who has conquered the adversities of being a cripple. Yeah, I know it's politically incorrect to use such words as "cripple," and I've noticed those democrats are even trying to stop us from saying "handicapped" now. But Tom Hanks made reference to ME as a "cripple," and if Tom Hanks thinks using such a word is acceptable, I don't see what could possibly be wrong with it. We remain friends, but he's really busy right now, producing or directing movies and mastering the ancient martial art called Zumba. I've written Tom Hanks three letters a week for the last twenty years, and I've never received a written reply, but I am confident that has nothing to do with Tom Hanks not wishing to communicate with me. We have a telepathic connection that transcends writing letters. He probably is actually writing me back, but the US Postal Service, while an upstanding organization, is always discriminating against me because of my disability. They don't believe it's important to get all 148 letters I write per week to the addressees in a timely fashion. Whenever I ask someone if they got my letter, and ask if they plan to write back, the answer is commonly "no, but our mailman is slow sometimes." I do understand that the prevalence of email has reduced USPS business. They probably have to hire people who have never seen a masterpiece of film such as Forrest Gump. No one that works at the post office appears to have the capacity to appreciate films that have such deep and meaningful life lessons about chocolate, pregnancy complications, and the building of the Berlin Wall. Most times, when I ask my mailmen if they noticed the glaring undertones of communism in Forrest Gump, I receive a puzzled look, and recondite smile. It is unfortunate that these essential themes are often misunderstood, and if I had been granted more creative license in the film Forrest Gump, or even a producer credit, I could have made it easier for the general public to comprehend the deeper meanings of the film. I could have done so much if I had just had more time with Tom Hanks for those two magical days. I often wish that Tom Hanks had suffered an injury which would have required him to need my help getting around longer, such as a total break of the ankle, a broken leg, or a hairline crack in his hipbone. You're probably thinking this is a cruel thing to wish on someone, but when you really look at what these proposed injuries could have done to influence the youth of today, you have to admit it would have been in society's best interest that Tom Hanks suffer, albeit mildly. Perhaps my grandkids would be wearing pants that fit them, instead of these falling off their backsides, that are 12 sizes too large. Also, what's with those earlobe holes in kids nowadays? I feel like I woke up one day and all these teens were storing items in these giant ear holes. What's next, neck extenders where the neck is stretched 15 inches longer than natural, or lip discs where my granddaughter will look like she could fit an entire orange through this droopy hole she's created with her lower lip? She pays a lady at the tattoo shop a substantial amount of money to put tasteless accouterments on her body. I know that she paid that tattoo lady the entire 5 dollars I gave her for her birthday last year, and even though she's 21 now, I don't think she should have the freedom to destroy her body with my social security cash. All she has to show for my money is a big gaping set of earlobes. I know if I had been able to add more input on the subtle hidden themes that were woven into the plot of Forrest Gump, the youth of today would be wearing clothes that fit, buying tasteful and respectful jewelry, (in this alternate reality, only my granddaughter would have pierced ears, not all 3 of my grandsons and one of my great-grandsons) and they certainly would not smoking all these bath salts through some contraption called "electronic cigars."
Here's a little known fact that Tom Hanks confided with one of the other actors in Forrest Gump, who subsequently told me via email last Christmas: Microsoft, in partnership with Apple Computer Corp, invented the electronic cigar with funding from a government grant which was originally allocated to buy 600 dollar toilet seats for the Pentagon. The electronic cigar has been shown to have a direct correlation with the resurgence of the Polio virus. These computer corporations want to keep the youth of America sitting in front of computers, all jacked up on Polio. I know it sounds crazy, but you canutilize the freedom of information act to verify this, just like I do about 20 times per month. The things you can learn from FOIA are astounding. All you really have to do is join the Illuminati if you want to be on the front line of verifiable conspiracy plots that are designed to undermine the mobility of the hard-working, God-fearing, tax-paying American. If you've fallen victim to the electronic cigar craze and you still have use of your legs, you have a limited amount of time to enjoy the life you've come to know. Dance while you still can. It would be prudent to consider purchasing this wheelchair as a precautionary measure, because when everyone starts getting Polio, demand will be greater than the supply, and it doesn't take an economist to know that this wheelchair will be more valuable than its weight in gold. I don't want to hear from any economists out there that think you can refute my theory; they always come crawling out of the woodwork. Alan Greenspan's receptionist has written me several nicely worded form letters, signed by Mr. Greenspan via a rubber stamp, which completely validate me and this entire theory. I know that disseminating this top secret Polio information may make me the target of Apple or Microsoft's assassin squad, even if they really only assassinate characters. Tom Hanks knows the depth of my character, so other people's opinions don't really affect me anymore. I've lived my life to its fullest in this scooter chair, friends. If death is the price I have to pay to inform the world of the Polio danger that corporate America subjects the handicapped to, I would be happy to fall on that sword. I've been a hero most of my life, and I have no intention of not following in my own footsteps, then backtracking in them so the Microsoft and Apple character assassins are thrown off my trail, then jumping in the scooter chair and riding a small distance, backing up in my wheelchair tracks, and then walking forward in my footsteps. I've tracked big game in Africa in this scooter chair, so I know all the ins and outs of throwing off my scent when I am considered the game. It's a classic case of the hunter becoming the hunted. Becoming the hunted is the sacrifice I'm making to impart this wheelchair, and this wisdom, on a needy member of my community. My altruism is second to none when it comes to this chair, and I hope you really understand how blessed you are to be living in a county where great Americans such as myself reside. I hope you are honored that it's my pleasure to serve my fellow Idahoans...to serve as a pillar of this community with my generous Craigslist offerings. You're welcome. I truly care, and it's evident.
I set the stage for being a hero long, long ago, as a hero of foreign wars. Well actually they were mostly all "police actions," peppered with a political coup here and there. America is a polite guest that offers the hostess a bottle wine upon arriving in a different country. Then, she uncorks the bottle of wine, gets everyone a little tipsy, and she shows the other countries the joys of 12 hour work days in factories where everyone of every age can learn a exemplary work ethic and have a trade. Without America being a great example, so many people in these third world places would still be lounging around grass huts, eating ants with a stick, playing games with occult undertones, laying naked in hammocks, and basically just refusing to worship our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Have you accepted Jesus Christ as YOUR personal Lord and Savior? Have you allowed him into all the chambers, atria, and ventricles of your heart? I sure have, and I know that that his love protects me from Polio. If you need direction to take Jesus into your heart, you can come to my house and my housemate Jesse has an entire book that he can read out loud to you about how to be sure you want Jesus. The book does a good job of clarifying if Jesus is right for you, and if he's not, it guides you to one of those other, less meaningful religious icons such as Buddha or Mohammed. Jesse is very good at helping people with religious guidance...he's a pastor. Or he's really considered just an ordained minister, which means he doesn't have his own congregation yet. He applied with some internet church to become ordained about six months ago. Currently, he has an ad in the Nickel's Worth to perform outdoor marriages at Schweitzer Mountain. Bride and Groom can sit next to Jesse on a ski lift, the witnesses sit in the lift in front of the couple, and Jesse can marry you in this beautiful mountain setting. So far no one has taken him up on this service, but if you're looking to get married, pay only the fee of "donations accepted," and kiss your bride or groom with the ceremonial wedding sealing kiss with Jesse's face about 3 inches from your own, your prayers have been answered! You can even double your donation money by asking Jesse to put on his mysterious magic show in the lodge at Schweitzer during your wedding reception. We can have it set-up in advance to have your scooter chair waiting in the lodge. Face it, you're mobile, you're married, and there's a Jesus Christ-approved magic show going on in the background. Have you ever imagined your life so rewarding and fulfilled? All your emotional holes can be stuffed full by the knowledge that you took charge of your life. You're not bedridden anymore. You have conquered the world, and no longer let the world conquer you. YOU'RE FINALLY FREE! Oh people of Bonner County, I can't figure out why haven't you bought my scooter chair yet. Are you just too in awe of the pleasantly baffling life that I've lived in this chair? I need the new owner of this chair to know just what they've stumbled upon. It's like you just crashed in Cortez' City of Gold, and the gold is real. What a bounty! These few paragraphs have been what I liken to the Rosetta Stone of the otherwise incomprehensible ancient language of the value of this chair. I'm so glad you're considering the chair, so it would be in your best interest to jump on this while you still can.
I won't even be profiting from this sale, because my intention as head of my church's youth sports group is to purchase all the youths their very own athletic supporters. I have been disappointed for years to see the same athletic supporters used by a variety of young men. Their dignity is in jeopardy when they become conscious that they must use second hand, third hand, or in many cases, 5 hand intimate apparel. Everyone deserves to feel supported, and to have their very own supporter to support them. It's been proven that when our children don't get proper support, they turn to gangs, drugs, violence or this new-fangled thing: "cutting themselves" with razors and butter knives. What they need is a fresh, unused jock-strap. I'm so tired of hearing about makeshift athletic supporters being fashioned out of ladies discarded nylon stockings. How degrading! It's things like this that are the catalyst for what ends in a same-sex civil union. Just look at Canada, if you can stomach it. There's a reason those Communists up there, (especially the ones that speak that bastardized version of French) think it's okay for a man to marry a man. It's because they probably all shared the same athletic supporters in a Communist or at the very least, Socialist fashion. I wouldn't be surprised if there's but one jock-strap up in Canada for every hockey playing Canadian teen to share. Please invest in your community's children now by buying this chair from me. It trickles down through me to the church's youth. Just like that one song by all those hippie rock stars like Michael Jackson and New Boys on the Block, I believe the children are our future. And if we care for their support now, we won't have to support them later during reorientation therapy. That can be costly and emotionally draining to the entire family. It's just not covered by most insurance, as I discovered when my grandson asked me for 13,000 dollars for a week-long seminar and training camp where the focus was returning to heterosexuality. And yes, I paid that much. I couldn't see him wearing eyeliner another day. I couldn't think anymore about him holding hands instead of shaking hands, which is the only appropriate method of two men demonstrating their love for each other. I was in the wars, and I know what it's like to love a man...above the waist. I know men need love, too. I've saved men's lives by throwing live grenades out of foxholes to show my brothers in arms that I loved them. I can't imagine what would have happened had I elected to show my love by attempting to engage in a passionate kiss. If you want to know more about my grandson and his struggles to conquer this unnatural lust, please just come out to my house and we can discuss it over a meal. I may be roasting a turkey for hours or putting an entire pig on a spit. Another option: my neighbors have an emu farm! We always have the option to boil an entire emu for a down-home, hearty meal. I will request your help to lure the emu over to my property, which would diminish the likelihood of any litigation. He won't miss just one of them, I promise. Well, I look forward to this meal and discussion with you. The odds are high that you'll be leaving with your very own scooter chair, and I'll have some money to spend on "supporting" the youth. Don't delay. Finally, I rest my case, good day, beautiful resident of Idaho! It was your pleasure to make my acquaintance! (If you're thinking of coming from Montana or Washington to score an Idaho treasure, I would rethink that. I insist on knowing where my scooter chair will be at all times in the future, and I'm not flexible on allowing it outside of the confines of this state, the best state, Idaho.)
http://spokane.craigslist.org/hab/4310792373.html
THE SHORT STORY: (for people debilitated with ADHD)
Buy this absolutely fabulous mechanized sitting machine. (aka: wheelchair.)
$222 OBO - I also like to barter (I like to sell things for odd amounts, don't ask)
Call me: 208-597-1747 (Call me any time, any place, any where: My name is James.)
Incredible product. (It's the next best thing to working legs and feet, hands down.)
Incredible price. (The MSRP is like 5k! Buying it at this price is like MAKING money.)
Help me, help you, to help me give you the gift of mobility. (Just because I want compensation for : my contribution doesn't negate the fact that this is a selfless and philanthropic act on my part.)
THE LONG STORY: (For people who are open-minded, and crave knowledge and detail, High School Diploma Required No GED. You must be my educational contemporary to continue)
This is a quality working Scooter chair made by the reputable Invacare corporation. If you're familiar with this company, you know their products are built to last. I don't even work there and I can attest to the craftsmanship the Invacare employees invest in each chair that rolls off the assembly line. This chair will probably outlast me, so I'd like to see it in the hands of someone who can appreciate it. The particular model of this specific chair is the Ranger 2. The feeling upon sitting in this chair reminds me of being effortlessly lifted by two very strong Army Rangers, and I reckon that's probably why it's called the "Ranger 2." I honestly believe this chair has several quality years of life left in it. Unfortunately, I do not have working batteries for this chair. Once you acquire the necessary batteries, which I have recently priced for $100 total, you will have a smooth ride from your restroom to kitchen. Or vice versa. This really is a great means of locomotion for the disabled, elderly, excessively lazy OR and can also be a snowy day entertainment ride for kids cooped up with excess energy. Once you sit in it, you'll probably offer me $1000. I mean, it does retail for $5000. I could never take advantage of your generosity and would insist on the maximum I could accept is $800. [This was the past, now I can only accept $222 because I'm more charitable than last week. I just watched "A Christmas Carol" and it floored me. Ghosts are scary!]
You know those commercials where the guy is outside in a National Park in his scooter chair? At one time it was very difficult for me to believe that a person could scoot around in the outdoors or woods in a scooter chair. This chair proved my skepticism wildly unnecessary. I have taken this chair on multiple vacations, out into the woods regularly, and have even hunted elk on a few occasions. Despite all my rugged endeavors, this chair has held its beauty very nicely. From one stand-up American to another, I would love to pass to you: the torch that is this scooter chair and all the gifts of mobility it has the capacity to bestow. You may sense my deep affection for this chair in the description. And I see that it may inspire you to ask "why would James Boom-Boom Johnson even think about selling this chair that has made his life so much easier?" Well I've regained the use of my once feeble, varicose veined legs. We can discuss it at my house, but please don't feel as though you are obligated to engage in a long, arduous conversation about things that don't interest you should you visit my home. I am also quite happy just pointing at the chair and letting you look it over yourself without any sales pitch. Also, the manual for this, a mere 60 pages of detailed owner resources, is available with purchase at no additional charge. I would happy to read all 60 pages in audio book format, if you are vision impaired. Just ask. My younger live-in home health aid (and amateur magician) Jesse has expressed willingness to load this chair into your vehicle should you need that service. He is also available to assist you in the purchase of new batteries. He is an amazing bargain shopper and will make sure you get the best deal out there. It would really help me out if you could watch perhaps 2-5 minutes of his magic show, if you decide to purchase the chair. Please note: YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO WITNESS A MAGIC SHOW IF YOU'RE JUST COMING TO SEE THE CHAIR AND CONSIDER PURCHASE. To the lucky purchaser: I know watching a bad magic show is a lot to ask, but please just chalk it up to assisting the elderly (me) in avoiding a poorly constructed magic show for the 46th time and feigning interest. It's becoming a challenge and his "illusions" don't seem to get any better with practice. You're the customer, and the customer is always right. If my warm, open and emotional nature makes you in any sense uncomfortable, please just let me know and I will accommodate your request. All I want to see is this chair in the right hands, or legs, and making someone else as happy as it's made me. Thank you for your interest in one of the world's most revered tools for mobility. Ranger 2. By Invacare. Get where you need to go. Do they already have a motto? I should call them and offer "get where you need to go" because it's exactly how I feel when using the chair.
So, I will absolutely not be hurt if you don't have time to spend with me before or after your evaluation of the chair. I get it. My grandchildren don't like to spend time here either. The world is changing, and you don't want to be left behind. This scooter chair will keep you up to pace with your grandchildren's interests, such as staring into ipod and playing great theiving auto V and mutated karate turtles on x-station 3. I may never understand youth again, but I sure know I always felt 40 years younger in this chair, wheeling around the house at my leisure. Not having to ever stand (because I was sitting in the chair, of course) really helped me maintain my energy, and stay up until at least Wheel of Fortune started. I really always considered it a mild version of Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth...only in chair form. This chair has seen good times, better times and even the best of times... all beneath the back of the bottom of me: an American Hero, Idaho Native and High School graduate. This wheelchair's legacy is intertwined with mine, and for an insignificant fee, your legacy can wiggle its way in here too, straight into the history books next to me. It will be like our legacies were playing Twister together and someone came along and dipped them in carbonite, just like Jabba the Hut did, when he paid Darth Vader to deliver Han Solo to him in a classic Star Trek episode. Your present reputation and everlasting legacy will ride atop the shoulders of my legacy, which is already taller than most... so your legacy would be higher, in status, than say, the world's tallest man wearing platform shoes and walking on stilts at a carnival populated solely by very small children who are being supervised by adults who drank lots of caffeine during their childhood, so it looks like they suffer from dwarfism - or maybe they're all just midgets, who knows? I agree that it would be crazy to witness a carnival populated solely by tiny people and children, but this is just a simile. Wait, no: metaphor? One of those I think. Don't actually waste time imagining a carnival like that though. Kindly keep your attention on this wheelchair and all the perks that come with it being pre-infused with my essence. Let's make history, together, and with any luck, years from now this wheelchair will rest under a glass case in a Bonner County history museum as the trusty mechanical steed that liberated not one, but two of Idaho's biggest gems from the curse of immobilization. Of course, I mean yourself and me. You see, Idaho's slogan is "The Gem State," so when I say "Gem," I'm using it to refer to fabulous people, and not tiny bits of compressed carbon that formed into diamonds millions of years ago from intense pressure and heat, inside a volcanic kimberlite pipe. So I guess I'm using a simile or a metaphor again? One of the two. My fatal flaw is that I always get those two words confused whenever I compare one thing to another thing, or try to point out the similarities of two things that are on the surface totally different, but share one or two often overlooked intrinsic qualities. Look, I'll be the first to admit that I really didn't pay much attention in my high school english class, but that didn't keep me from practicing law as a paralegal. It's kind of like how Erin Brokovich practiced law by doing all the real legwork, but then just couldn't get any official credit for it because she hadn't passed the BAR. You know what? I manipulated a passing grade in my English class by attending summer school not once, but TWICE. And still, I attended the SAME graduation ceremony as all those other kids who wasted their childhood reading and memorizing boring facts, testing hypotheses with their fancy graph paper, and plotting routes on their x/y axis. Just because you can draw a perfect circle with your compass doesn't make you some sort of super genius with some sort of high IQ who can calculate the trajectory of some sort of spaceship with finger-paints. When Dustin Hoffman played that one guy in Rainman, I bet he couldn't draw a perfect circle either, even though he could count poker cards and memorize multiplication tables on par with the best autistic counters alive. Anyway, you'd better believe that I sleep soundly at night knowing that my High School degree makes me just as well read and learned as any of my so called "classmates," none of whom, I guarantee, have the means to purchase a wheelchair anywhere near this fabulous. If they did, it certainly wouldn't be a wheelchair such as this one that has soaked up the priceless moments of a life like mine. Mine has truly been a life less ordinary!
It's really an insult to engineering and technology to call this a wheelchair. This is a true modern marvel, like things on that History Channel program called Modern Marvels. I'm sure that you know which one I'm talking about. I'll be back in a bit, because I'm going to write them a letter right now. I need to let them know that they should do their next show about the Invacare Ranger 2. I just had the epiphany that I've repeatedly made the mistake of considering this a wheelchair, when it's clearly more of an electric ATV from the future, that has traveled back though time to rescue the handicapped and eradicate immobility. Perhaps it's more like a Prius...a custom Prius built by those guys on the Discovery Channel who customize motorcycles to shoot flames, and then they apply flame decals everywhere, so that the whole bike just looks like one big flaming flame that actually shoots flames as an excessively dangerous novelty. Close your eyes and just imagine - if you will - a Prius that will be stripped down to the wheels, seat and batteries, then infused with an awesome legacy [mine] from a real Gem of a person [me], then sold at a very reasonable price to another Gem of a person [you] who clearly has an eye for quality and appreciates the finer things in life [like the legacy of my life], then said wheelchair plays a pivotal role in skyrocketing said second owner into the stratosphere of handicapped society's social elite. You can open your eyes now, if you closed them a few sentences ago. So the wheelchair then serves said second owner well and without fail to their dying day, and through some quirk of fate gets found by a philanthropic historian at one of those antique roadshows. There it's deemed to be so valuable that it's priceless, and donated to the state of Idaho which recognizes it as a state treasure, and gives the antique appraiser like, unlimited credit on their state taxes or something. It seems perfectly realistic that the State of Idaho might even pay the appraiser a lifelong pension just for their contribution to preserving Idaho's most valuable state treasure. In this potential scenario, you and I, seller and buyer, really have given Idaho a great gift, and it's totally incomparable to everything Idaho currently lays claim to. I envision that this scooter then gets encased in a vacuum-sealed, bulletproof glass enclosure that rests under lock & key in a high security wing of a government owned building. Then they give tours as they open this building to the public for a fee, and our wheelchair is protected 24/7 by armed guards, where it will be appreciated by grateful Idahoans for many thousands of years to come.
Are you still questioning why this wheelchair is so extremely unique and special? Great! I'm so glad that you were wondering about this, because I would love to tell you this story which is one of the highlights of my life. Are you ready to have your mind blown? One word: Hollywood. Now that I have your interest, I'm sure you'd like me to elaborate on this. Don't worry, I will. Twenty years ago in 1994, I was one of Tom Hanks many co-stars in the best movie of all time -- Forrest Gump. I warned you that your mind would be blown, so I am not liable for any aneurysm you have just suffered. I do apologize in the even that your stroke has permanent effects, though. So back to the most interesting story of this scooter chair's life. Technically, in Forrest Gump, I was called an "extra," so you won't find my name in the credits, but I established a deep bond with Tom Hanks during the filming. I should have been listed as a creative consultant in the credits, because Tom Hanks on more than one occasion asked me specific details about how handicapped and mentally challenged people would react in certain scenes he was working on. So, you know that one line where Tom Hanks references life being edible like a box of chocolate donuts? I was the one who first made that connection between life and chocolate. It bloomed into a magical moment in movie history, all while I was sitting in this breathtaking piece of mobility machinery. Something else the next owner must be aware of: one morning Tom Hanks and I were out exercising. He was in his short-shorts, and me in my Invacare Ranger 2. He twisted his ankle on a tree root, and he couldn't continue jogging, so I offered him a seat in my lap. As we effortlessly whizzed back to the studio, Tom Hanks expressed that he found the ride smooth, fluid, and best of all, intimate and touching. This wheelchair brought me and Tom Hanks closer together than I feel any other wheelchair could have possibly done. He was so impressed with this chair, he asked to borrow it for the day to scoot around the set. Obviously, he was just showboating for all the other actors, but that is certainly within the province of an A-list movie star of the American silver screen. So although I would be stationary for a while, his elevated mobility meant so much to me, him, and Hollywood that I couldn't turn his request down. Our friendship would never be the same. We were so close, and I felt like a father-figure to him, offering him wisdom that can only come from the experiences of someone who has conquered the adversities of being a cripple. Yeah, I know it's politically incorrect to use such words as "cripple," and I've noticed those democrats are even trying to stop us from saying "handicapped" now. But Tom Hanks made reference to ME as a "cripple," and if Tom Hanks thinks using such a word is acceptable, I don't see what could possibly be wrong with it. We remain friends, but he's really busy right now, producing or directing movies and mastering the ancient martial art called Zumba. I've written Tom Hanks three letters a week for the last twenty years, and I've never received a written reply, but I am confident that has nothing to do with Tom Hanks not wishing to communicate with me. We have a telepathic connection that transcends writing letters. He probably is actually writing me back, but the US Postal Service, while an upstanding organization, is always discriminating against me because of my disability. They don't believe it's important to get all 148 letters I write per week to the addressees in a timely fashion. Whenever I ask someone if they got my letter, and ask if they plan to write back, the answer is commonly "no, but our mailman is slow sometimes." I do understand that the prevalence of email has reduced USPS business. They probably have to hire people who have never seen a masterpiece of film such as Forrest Gump. No one that works at the post office appears to have the capacity to appreciate films that have such deep and meaningful life lessons about chocolate, pregnancy complications, and the building of the Berlin Wall. Most times, when I ask my mailmen if they noticed the glaring undertones of communism in Forrest Gump, I receive a puzzled look, and recondite smile. It is unfortunate that these essential themes are often misunderstood, and if I had been granted more creative license in the film Forrest Gump, or even a producer credit, I could have made it easier for the general public to comprehend the deeper meanings of the film. I could have done so much if I had just had more time with Tom Hanks for those two magical days. I often wish that Tom Hanks had suffered an injury which would have required him to need my help getting around longer, such as a total break of the ankle, a broken leg, or a hairline crack in his hipbone. You're probably thinking this is a cruel thing to wish on someone, but when you really look at what these proposed injuries could have done to influence the youth of today, you have to admit it would have been in society's best interest that Tom Hanks suffer, albeit mildly. Perhaps my grandkids would be wearing pants that fit them, instead of these falling off their backsides, that are 12 sizes too large. Also, what's with those earlobe holes in kids nowadays? I feel like I woke up one day and all these teens were storing items in these giant ear holes. What's next, neck extenders where the neck is stretched 15 inches longer than natural, or lip discs where my granddaughter will look like she could fit an entire orange through this droopy hole she's created with her lower lip? She pays a lady at the tattoo shop a substantial amount of money to put tasteless accouterments on her body. I know that she paid that tattoo lady the entire 5 dollars I gave her for her birthday last year, and even though she's 21 now, I don't think she should have the freedom to destroy her body with my social security cash. All she has to show for my money is a big gaping set of earlobes. I know if I had been able to add more input on the subtle hidden themes that were woven into the plot of Forrest Gump, the youth of today would be wearing clothes that fit, buying tasteful and respectful jewelry, (in this alternate reality, only my granddaughter would have pierced ears, not all 3 of my grandsons and one of my great-grandsons) and they certainly would not smoking all these bath salts through some contraption called "electronic cigars."
Here's a little known fact that Tom Hanks confided with one of the other actors in Forrest Gump, who subsequently told me via email last Christmas: Microsoft, in partnership with Apple Computer Corp, invented the electronic cigar with funding from a government grant which was originally allocated to buy 600 dollar toilet seats for the Pentagon. The electronic cigar has been shown to have a direct correlation with the resurgence of the Polio virus. These computer corporations want to keep the youth of America sitting in front of computers, all jacked up on Polio. I know it sounds crazy, but you canutilize the freedom of information act to verify this, just like I do about 20 times per month. The things you can learn from FOIA are astounding. All you really have to do is join the Illuminati if you want to be on the front line of verifiable conspiracy plots that are designed to undermine the mobility of the hard-working, God-fearing, tax-paying American. If you've fallen victim to the electronic cigar craze and you still have use of your legs, you have a limited amount of time to enjoy the life you've come to know. Dance while you still can. It would be prudent to consider purchasing this wheelchair as a precautionary measure, because when everyone starts getting Polio, demand will be greater than the supply, and it doesn't take an economist to know that this wheelchair will be more valuable than its weight in gold. I don't want to hear from any economists out there that think you can refute my theory; they always come crawling out of the woodwork. Alan Greenspan's receptionist has written me several nicely worded form letters, signed by Mr. Greenspan via a rubber stamp, which completely validate me and this entire theory. I know that disseminating this top secret Polio information may make me the target of Apple or Microsoft's assassin squad, even if they really only assassinate characters. Tom Hanks knows the depth of my character, so other people's opinions don't really affect me anymore. I've lived my life to its fullest in this scooter chair, friends. If death is the price I have to pay to inform the world of the Polio danger that corporate America subjects the handicapped to, I would be happy to fall on that sword. I've been a hero most of my life, and I have no intention of not following in my own footsteps, then backtracking in them so the Microsoft and Apple character assassins are thrown off my trail, then jumping in the scooter chair and riding a small distance, backing up in my wheelchair tracks, and then walking forward in my footsteps. I've tracked big game in Africa in this scooter chair, so I know all the ins and outs of throwing off my scent when I am considered the game. It's a classic case of the hunter becoming the hunted. Becoming the hunted is the sacrifice I'm making to impart this wheelchair, and this wisdom, on a needy member of my community. My altruism is second to none when it comes to this chair, and I hope you really understand how blessed you are to be living in a county where great Americans such as myself reside. I hope you are honored that it's my pleasure to serve my fellow Idahoans...to serve as a pillar of this community with my generous Craigslist offerings. You're welcome. I truly care, and it's evident.
I set the stage for being a hero long, long ago, as a hero of foreign wars. Well actually they were mostly all "police actions," peppered with a political coup here and there. America is a polite guest that offers the hostess a bottle wine upon arriving in a different country. Then, she uncorks the bottle of wine, gets everyone a little tipsy, and she shows the other countries the joys of 12 hour work days in factories where everyone of every age can learn a exemplary work ethic and have a trade. Without America being a great example, so many people in these third world places would still be lounging around grass huts, eating ants with a stick, playing games with occult undertones, laying naked in hammocks, and basically just refusing to worship our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Have you accepted Jesus Christ as YOUR personal Lord and Savior? Have you allowed him into all the chambers, atria, and ventricles of your heart? I sure have, and I know that that his love protects me from Polio. If you need direction to take Jesus into your heart, you can come to my house and my housemate Jesse has an entire book that he can read out loud to you about how to be sure you want Jesus. The book does a good job of clarifying if Jesus is right for you, and if he's not, it guides you to one of those other, less meaningful religious icons such as Buddha or Mohammed. Jesse is very good at helping people with religious guidance...he's a pastor. Or he's really considered just an ordained minister, which means he doesn't have his own congregation yet. He applied with some internet church to become ordained about six months ago. Currently, he has an ad in the Nickel's Worth to perform outdoor marriages at Schweitzer Mountain. Bride and Groom can sit next to Jesse on a ski lift, the witnesses sit in the lift in front of the couple, and Jesse can marry you in this beautiful mountain setting. So far no one has taken him up on this service, but if you're looking to get married, pay only the fee of "donations accepted," and kiss your bride or groom with the ceremonial wedding sealing kiss with Jesse's face about 3 inches from your own, your prayers have been answered! You can even double your donation money by asking Jesse to put on his mysterious magic show in the lodge at Schweitzer during your wedding reception. We can have it set-up in advance to have your scooter chair waiting in the lodge. Face it, you're mobile, you're married, and there's a Jesus Christ-approved magic show going on in the background. Have you ever imagined your life so rewarding and fulfilled? All your emotional holes can be stuffed full by the knowledge that you took charge of your life. You're not bedridden anymore. You have conquered the world, and no longer let the world conquer you. YOU'RE FINALLY FREE! Oh people of Bonner County, I can't figure out why haven't you bought my scooter chair yet. Are you just too in awe of the pleasantly baffling life that I've lived in this chair? I need the new owner of this chair to know just what they've stumbled upon. It's like you just crashed in Cortez' City of Gold, and the gold is real. What a bounty! These few paragraphs have been what I liken to the Rosetta Stone of the otherwise incomprehensible ancient language of the value of this chair. I'm so glad you're considering the chair, so it would be in your best interest to jump on this while you still can.
I won't even be profiting from this sale, because my intention as head of my church's youth sports group is to purchase all the youths their very own athletic supporters. I have been disappointed for years to see the same athletic supporters used by a variety of young men. Their dignity is in jeopardy when they become conscious that they must use second hand, third hand, or in many cases, 5 hand intimate apparel. Everyone deserves to feel supported, and to have their very own supporter to support them. It's been proven that when our children don't get proper support, they turn to gangs, drugs, violence or this new-fangled thing: "cutting themselves" with razors and butter knives. What they need is a fresh, unused jock-strap. I'm so tired of hearing about makeshift athletic supporters being fashioned out of ladies discarded nylon stockings. How degrading! It's things like this that are the catalyst for what ends in a same-sex civil union. Just look at Canada, if you can stomach it. There's a reason those Communists up there, (especially the ones that speak that bastardized version of French) think it's okay for a man to marry a man. It's because they probably all shared the same athletic supporters in a Communist or at the very least, Socialist fashion. I wouldn't be surprised if there's but one jock-strap up in Canada for every hockey playing Canadian teen to share. Please invest in your community's children now by buying this chair from me. It trickles down through me to the church's youth. Just like that one song by all those hippie rock stars like Michael Jackson and New Boys on the Block, I believe the children are our future. And if we care for their support now, we won't have to support them later during reorientation therapy. That can be costly and emotionally draining to the entire family. It's just not covered by most insurance, as I discovered when my grandson asked me for 13,000 dollars for a week-long seminar and training camp where the focus was returning to heterosexuality. And yes, I paid that much. I couldn't see him wearing eyeliner another day. I couldn't think anymore about him holding hands instead of shaking hands, which is the only appropriate method of two men demonstrating their love for each other. I was in the wars, and I know what it's like to love a man...above the waist. I know men need love, too. I've saved men's lives by throwing live grenades out of foxholes to show my brothers in arms that I loved them. I can't imagine what would have happened had I elected to show my love by attempting to engage in a passionate kiss. If you want to know more about my grandson and his struggles to conquer this unnatural lust, please just come out to my house and we can discuss it over a meal. I may be roasting a turkey for hours or putting an entire pig on a spit. Another option: my neighbors have an emu farm! We always have the option to boil an entire emu for a down-home, hearty meal. I will request your help to lure the emu over to my property, which would diminish the likelihood of any litigation. He won't miss just one of them, I promise. Well, I look forward to this meal and discussion with you. The odds are high that you'll be leaving with your very own scooter chair, and I'll have some money to spend on "supporting" the youth. Don't delay. Finally, I rest my case, good day, beautiful resident of Idaho! It was your pleasure to make my acquaintance! (If you're thinking of coming from Montana or Washington to score an Idaho treasure, I would rethink that. I insist on knowing where my scooter chair will be at all times in the future, and I'm not flexible on allowing it outside of the confines of this state, the best state, Idaho.)
