Purple Slug Earrings

Purple Slug Earrings
That’s a cool pair of Purple Slug Earrings. You know what you call a purple slug right? A purple nurple! *Everyone cover your nips as I go on a rampage* Now that I have that out of my very juvenile system… I actually got out the the juvenile system a few years back cuz they couldn’t try me as an adult. I’m a free man now. I was known as the Purple Nurple Burglar. I would break in at night and do the twist, if you know what I mean. Then run. The statute of limitations ran out and the color has returned to all of the boobies that I wronged.

Bronze Slug Rings

Bronze Slug Rings
Bronze Slug Rings baby! Slugs slithering all in between your fingers that you can use for brass knuckles should some dude mess with you in a dark alley somewhere. What? You want slugs to the face bro? BAM. SLUGGO! These slugs will never let you down. Unless somebody throws salt all over your hands.

This ring is sweet. I just wish I had known about this before I made my slug ring the old fashioned way. By shoving both hands in the garden and pulling ’em back up with nasty gooey slugs between my fingers.
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Snail Ukulele, For Slow Jams

acoustic snail ukelele
If you like to play your jams really really slow and leave a snail trail all over the stage, this Snail Ukulele should do the trick. You’ll have to get it by snail mail of course. You can check out a video of it in action below.It sounds pretty friggin’ awesome if you ask me.

I would get one, but I know people would just throw salt at me on stage. Then where would I be? Just standing there teary-eyed, my dreams dashed, with my arms full of a melting snail ukulele. Though that would be a step up from the rotten fruit and hazardous materials they throw at me now. Plus, I could finish a song and say cool stuff like. “Thank you. Thank you. Totally snailed it, I know” *bows, only to get hit in the head with a salt shaker*

People would follow me from gig to gig trying to kill my snail guitar and shut me up, because it isn’t easy getting salt all the way on stage. They would start with salt shakers, then work their way up to shotgun shells loaded with salt. I would just laugh and count my money as I watch my snail’s shell get bigger. Then one hot August night someone would drive a dumpster full of salt through the door and completely cover the stage. I would just rise up from the giant white mound, clear my throat and announce, “Ladies and gentlemen. Snailvis has left the building”.

Salt? Pfttt! It was a snail ukulele. If you didn’t like it, you could have just slugged it out with him.
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