Michal's thinking about the thought of supplementing his voluminous Fiction Corpus with a story about finding fiction stories online; cites fatigue
Posted:
I have faith in the possibility of harnessing English as a worldwide lingua franca. I do reject the vapid manner in which the English language is presented for study.
Enhancing one's adroitness with a language isn't like making a more prodigious quern. A language - a spoken tongue - is not merely a tool that you can teach yourself to employ with a greater amount of precision. A shared tongue can't be torn from the shared logic of a group of people of which it is a description. A language isn't recited; it happens - and keeps happening as long as a circle of people keeps using it.
Teaching pupils to recite English is to strip them of its cultural context. A good teacher has to develop a plan for introducing it; the prudent pupil goes out to seek it.
A dictionary can be an influential tool. The best dictionaries describe a language based on a particular corpus, a body of writing of varying scope and consistency. Such a corpus can include everything from a book about literature to some really short fiction stories. I suffered many a sleepless night developing my "mammoth" Fiction Corpus to form a special type of dictionary based on the ability of one man to tell a story in many different forms. It is a labor of love and listening.
I have crafted a million words and I have deconstructed them, reshaping them - not simply to teach a language but to promote the human soul, and to coax that soul or spirit not just to recite but to happen.
Author's Note: I have been enjoined from sharing the details of my true romance adventure until such time that the other party is prepared to present her perspective on the affair arrangement...
Lots of people go on road trips. Not everybody criss-crosses Europe in 46 days. Especially not with a complete stranger.
I knew naturism was popular in many parts of Europe and as an artist who had worked on body acceptance for his entire career I was keen on documenting some small part of it. Lo and behold, I found a very important part of it hiding in Poland. Her name was Margo.
I had an American passport. She didn't. And the fact that I was driving a car with Polish license plates gave her ample opportunity to point out the difference. It wasn't just police and border guards who ethnically profiled me. Regular folks did it too. One campsite owner didn't shake my hand until he realized I was an American. By that point, I had trained myself to use a simplified English, something that more closely resembled what passes for a lingua franca in Europe these days. Something Margo was trying very hard to master.
I've never been married. I've never been divorced. I've never had kids. I've never lost my kids. That doesn't mean I can't try to understand somebody who has. By listening to Margo during our trip across Europe I started to consider her needs as if they were my own. I may not have been in a position to satisfy all of those needs, but I was able to shut up and put my own needs aside if I had to for at least 6,000 miles. We all need to be listened to and it is the one need that we all have a duty to satisfy. When somebody prays to another human, as a human you have a duty to listen. Humanity needs to start teaching itself that skill.
6,000 miles across Europe with a complete stranger
During our trip across Europe, Margo very bravely opened up to me and to the camera. It was a difficult thing to do considering the scars that she carries. I wanted to share with the world her often joyful, often sad, often angry but always liberating experience except that the Internet is full of pictures of naked women and men and full of trolls who abuse them.
I realized that what I really need to point out is not the openness that Margo and I cultivated between ourselves, but the darkness that continues to surround us. When I censor nudity, I do so in a way that does not compromise the integrity of the human body. In censoring the photographs that Margo and I took during our trip, I was quick to notice that in those pictures where Margo was at her most open, at her most unguarded and most relaxed, in a word, when she was herself and basking in the sun I was forced to blacken her completely.
Why does our society drive people into darkness? Why can we not accept ourselves as we are? Why can we not accept our bodies? Have we truly become eunuchs? Or are we capable of defying the sickness that pits us against each other? Together we could conquer the devils that abuse us.
Whether you enjoy being nude or not, whether you've been photographed nude or not, but especially if, for you, like for Margo, it's something you never thought you would do, consider submitting your own photograph to be published in a censored manner as a form of protest against the ubiquitous presence of the human body on the internet, naked or not, that is published and duplicated ad infinitum without context and without regard for the identity or the needs of the individual being depicted.
Michal's Dictionary: Understanding the word Garden
A word can represent many things. First and foremost it represents a type of gesture. A specific way of speaking. A specific way of inscribing a mark. A specific way of moving your hand. To know one of these kinds of gestures is to know how to pronounce the word garden in some kind of way.
If you want to communicate an idea using the word garden, you will need to know what other people are made to think when you make the gesture. You will never have complete awareness of or control over the associations or identities that are invoked by a set of words, but you can know what was and what is a single word's jointly accepted definition, at least for a given place, thereby tracing a direction which will help you to understand what kinds of associations and identities are driving its use.
By using the word yourself, you enter into a long-standing albeit oftentimes unconscious debate over its definition, forever entangling yourself into the history of its use. The way you use it, and which other words you use it with carries weight.
The more you know about where the word garden is located in the fabric of a language, the better you will be at exploiting its cultural power.
Pronunciation of Garden
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the word garden.
Video of me pronouncing "garden."
Definition of Garden
A garden is a place you visit when you want or are expected to tend to some plant life that might not otherwise thrive without your help. It can also be the composition of plant life that you enjoy looking at when you're not busy concentrating on changing it. Otherwise it refers to the act of trying to change it or a kind of artifact or place related to such activity.
Common use of garden in illustrative example sentences
I have yet to come up with a third sentence using the word garden.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fourth sentence using the word garden.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a fifth sentence using the word garden.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a sixth sentence using the word garden.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
I have yet to come up with a seventh sentence using the word garden.
Audio of me saying the sentence:
Usage of Garden in Michal's Fiction Corpus
Michal's Fiction Corpus of Acceptance Literature (FiCAL) is presented under the Bare Bottom imprint. It is currently comprised of six bodies of work, each representing a different pillar of culture and incorporating a wide variety of writhing styles.
I have yet to make a morphological analysis of the word garden.
That doesn't mean it's not high on my list.
Table of Frequency for the Word "Garden."
This table lists in descending order the total number of times that the word gardenand any of its morphological derivations appears in the Fiction Corpus, along with a breakdown of frequency by title, the respective rank of each word in the complete list of all words in the Corpus, as calculated both densely and competitively, as well as the percent increase in frequency of the word over the frequency of the next lowest rank in the complete list.
Percent Increase over next rank
RANK
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
dense
competitive
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to publish the table of frequency for the word garden, but I will get to it shortly. -Michal
A story bible for a comic book series set in a post climate-change California narrated by eight characters who live through a natural disaster that sinks Los Angeles and triggers a war with an expansionist Mexican government covertly supported by China.
Frame #1501
the guy paypal picked up is a john. a regular. about once or twice a week. i got a description. its time to join the garden party.
An experimental science fiction Christology that makes Jesus the hard boiled narrator of his own early years on a bizarro earth made dark by volcanic ash and informally ruled by a man from Mars who sells bottled air.
That man had a golden hand. He was a craftsman, having excelled at all things in construction: masonry and carpentry, welding. He had built Jesus's grandmother a beautiful bower in her garden. Then he started drinking. Meanwhile, the woman had a house and a job, a beautiful family. She started drinking. She drank everything to pieces. Her husband left. She lost her job, then the house. Her son left. She was alone. Her own mother refused to recognize her. She crashed in basements. The man crashed in basements. That's how they met: they both crashed in basements. They found they had a common interest. What a model marriage they were! The town laughed.
"Two weeks ago, Leonard Cohen-Krupnik entered a white sedan in Warsaw registered to one of Panzer-Tank's employees and then got out carrying a similar suitcase. Two months ago, Panzer-Tank's secretary, carrying a similar suitcase, got into a white van registered to a Krupnik outside the cemetery in Rose Garden and then left without the suitcase."
Now, if Jesus had been completely guileless, instead of assuming that victory was his for the taking, he would've asked your mother, considering the encroaching darkness, whether she wanted to return as soon as possible to the high school to pitch her tent (sound advice) or go with him to Hell's Ditch. Knowing your mother, she probably would've said Hell's Ditch anyway (with a name like that, she would've smiled - if not devilishly, then, at least, with knowing embarrassment), but that's beside the point. We shall never know what your mother would've said because Jesus never bothered to ask. Nor did he decide to take the quickest way to Hell's Ditch (Home Army Road) or the second quickest way (the road to Wroclaw), but (considering the encroaching darkness) passing both those streets and going down Peace Defenders' Road, past the Town Park, past the Sanitation Inspector's Office, past the Regional Court, where, several months ago, Jesus had his first and only hearing, and, turning onto Church Road, going past the Church of Sts. Peter and Paul, looking briefly down Linden Flower Road, where, not so long ago, Jesus jumped the Krupnik and started this whole dirty affair, he went through the apartment blocks, crossed Soldiers' of September Street, and, going down Flower Road and turning right on Garden Street, took the absolute longest way to Hell's Ditch from the Sanitarium which could still be called a way.
A literature book narrated by a pair of siblings on either side of the Atlantic whose profoundly weird sexual experiences pose a serious challenge to their traditional understanding of mathematicians, marriage, gay young men and God.
I suggested we walk to Covent Garden. Albert liked the idea, but Indiana was clutching him like a mother hawk. She vehemently shook her head. "No," she said, "it is too far to walk." So we waited for a second train.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 1, The First Day, Part 1, Victory & Calendar Reform, Section 11, The Underground, Paragraph 6
I guess you could say that what I saw was the reflection of my own anxiety or something - but that is bullshit - psychological - and therefore abhorrent - so, yes: the garden scared me. I threw my fag away and looked inside. Indiana seemed to be serving something. Good, I thought. She's busy.
– Title 3, Regarding a Dream, Chapter 3, The Third Day, Part 2, Prayer & The Reformation, Section 15, Running Away, Paragraph 1
And that was it. Albert went back inside, leaving me in quite a bizarre mood. I didn't know what to be thinking. I was glad I had a cigarette: I could concentrate on smoking. It was too dark outside to see anything - except the shadows of the garden, which, in the daytime, looked positively unpromising, but which, at night, was perfectly ominous: it scared me to death.
A collection of stories featuring a sexy Parisian ghost, a spooky Moon base full of vagina-faced aliens, a policeman with an Irish name, a truck full of watermelons, a flautist, and a man who has to see another man about a diseased horse.
The next time Ferrari gave a lesson, he hid his brother in the Baron's garden. During practice, he removed the panes from the rose window. Lorenzo climbed up a poplar into Carmina's room. He was directed towards the instruments. Ferrari placed him with his back to the bed. He instructed him to play the pipe with one hand and the harmonium with the other.
The lovers relied on luck. On more than one occasion, as his father climbed the ladder, Ferrari had to leap quickly onto the porch, praying that nobody saw him. Lorenzo, who had taken to long walks, would return by way of the garden. It was most inconvenient.
"Your sauciness notwithstanding," replied the Lady, "I will reward you." Taking Ferrari through the garden, she pointed up to a stained-glass window flanked on either side by two fastigiate poplars. Rising like Macedonian guards, they made a distinctly imperial impression. "Beautiful," said Ferrari.
"She is spoiled," he thought to himself. There were no glass windows at his cousin's hut, where he decided to throw his boots. Nor were there any at his father's house. Relatively speaking, it was not insubstantial. Situated on the outskirts of town, it had its own stable in front and a wide garden behind.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo finished. In the Baron's garden, he started playing the song he knew so well. The Baron heard him. He approached. He asked how the boy had come to learn the tune. "It is a family heirloom," he said. "Have you been listening at the window?" The boy said nothing. "I recognize you," said the Baron. "You once played for the Bishop."
The Baron took the boy to the Bishop's palace. He told the concertmaster, "This boy is superb. Why does he no longer play for you?" The concertmaster's face fell.
A real play. With drama in it. Talk fast. It takes two hours. Set in a guest house. In a small community. After a murder. Lots of suspicion. The characters learn to listen to each other. It's funny.
FLETCHER: Trouble. The Tahitians were already upset. They hadn't been given any land when the island was divided, not to mention the fact that some of them were being beaten. Naturally, they started plotting. What they didn't take into account was the fact that To-ofa-iti, the blacksmith's new wife, was not complaining. The blacksmith was important. That made her important. She started singing a song, the words of which went, "Why does black man sharpen axe? To kill white man." When Fletcher Christian heard that song, he grabbed his musket, ran to the Tahitians, charged them with their crime, and pulled the trigger. The gun misfired. Two of the men ran; the rest protested their innocence. They begged for a chance to take care of it. They decided they should try to poison To-ofa-iti's husband. He didn't fall for it. He was too smart. Ultimately, one of the Tahitian men pulled a pistol on him in the presence of his wife. Again, the gun misfired. The two of them started grappling on the ground. Who knows who would've won? To-ofa-iti, however, was not about to take chances. She picked up the pistol with her own two hands and bopped her husband squarely on the head.
ALICE: She killed him?
FLETCHER: Eventually. Things were deceptively quiet for a few weeks. It didn't take long for judgment to fall upon the poor blacksmith. The Tahitians shot him down like a pig. Ironically, that's what the other mutineers thought they were doing. Being scattered all over the island, each man heard the shots and naturally assumed that somebody was hunting. Most of them found out too late that they were the prey.
ALICE: How many of them were killed?
FLETCHER: On that day, now known as Massacre Day, five of the original nine mutineers were fatally shot. Fletcher Christian was next. He was standing in his garden. Both of his hands were on his spade. He looked up at the sky and smiled. He never saw it coming. They shot him right through the heart.
ALICE: How did the others survive?
FLETCHER: Jackson was shot through the neck but he lived.
ALICE: Incredible.
FLETCHER: It's a miracle. Ned Young slept through the whole thing. The women didn't want to wake him. They all liked him and they didn't want to see him get hurt, so they stood around his hut and guarded him. Eventually, though, even he had to get his hands dirty. The women wanted revenge on the Tahitians for killing their husbands. After Ned's consort chopped off the ringleader's head with an axe, he was made to go and shoot the last remaining rebel. That was the end of the bloodshed - not counting when he and Jackson got Quintal drunk and murdered him.
ALICE: It's so barbaric.
– ACT I, lines 616-625
(LUKE exits in a rush.)
FLETCHER: Lord, what I just said to You notwithstanding, I would humbly like to add that every man needs a pension - a patrimony - a weighing out of Your Love, Justice, and Mercy in tangible, quantifiable form. Just like Thursday October, who had to bring a garden of his own under cultivation before he could marry Susannah, I too am required of a small gift of Your Grace - a modest portion of your bounty - so that I can be called Man and share in Your Fatherhood.
– ACT II, lines 252-252
(GREY GOOSE enters unseen carrying a letter.) GREY GOOSE: You, a farmer? Gardening maybe - but farming? Your hands are too sensitive. They were made for handling stems and bulbs.
KOKOMO: Can I help you?
GREY GOOSE: Excuse me. I was at the post office and I found a letter for your husband marked 'urgent.'
ALICE: For Luke?
GREY GOOSE: From his team's manager.
ALICE: It must be important. I had better go find him. Thank you. Excuse me, Kokomo. I'm afraid I must leave you - though I hate to do it. This doesn't bode very well for my honeymoon. Thanks for the massage!
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
It started with my friend Aaron. Steve as I call him. He's from a Jewish family. Reformed. He's big on cooking. Gardening. Real nature buff. Knows plants by sight. He loves Woodstock. When he suggested I go camping up there with him I was all for it. I'm usually up for anything.
This table lists in descending order of frequency a selection of word pairs that appear in the Fiction Corpus and groups them according to the morphological derivation of the word garden that appears in the pair.
Type
WORD
Frequency
TOTAL # of occurences
MCDONALDS
JESUS
SEX
TSIGA
JACKSON
DINGBATS
modern/sloppy
biblical/terse
poetic/high-brow
hard/fast
talky
mixed salad
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I have yet to perform a collocation analysis of "garden." I hope I can get it done sometime soon. -Michal
It's natural to hide dirty things. They're embarrassing. But we need to keep in mind that when we hide things that are difficult, we make them seem dirty when they're really something else entirely. And when we keep things that are easy in plain sight, we make them seem clean when they really aren't. That is dangerous.
Help me keep the "Garden" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal is exporting art from Poland...is he non compos mentis?
Michal's Sales Pitch Lot 1: Silesian Handicrafts
T-shirt fundraiser for sale
Last T-Shirt with the logo that I designed.
From a set of, I believe, twenty produced by Margo and given out to a portion of the last 20 women to finish the 20th anniversary Fiat Road Race in Bielsko-Biała, cf. the movie. This is the last one left in it's original packaging and my supporters - like the poor women of Bielsko - are going to have to fight for it. Whoever invests the most money with me, and who lets me borrow it to invest in the next lot, will not only be rewarded with some beautiful piece of art, but will get this priceless t-shirt as a reward for being my top supporter. $1000.00 or best offer. Remember to authorize me to hold the sum as credit against a future purchase and to authorize me to borrow against it.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #1 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt handbag for sale
Felt bag by Dorota.
Entirely hand-sewn. Base: polyester felt, 100% PE. Motif: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Unique and inimitable design. Inside: cotton fabric, closes with zipper, inside pocket. Available now for $220.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #2 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Decorative collar for sale
Decorative collar by Zuzanna.
Ethnic layered cloth jewelry constructed on a cotton base and adorned with ribbons, tassels, and a yellow fringe. Fastened on the side with 11 buttons, fitted entirely with a pleasant lining. The style is an Indo-Asian-African multinational color combination. The collar is very extravagant and an extraordinary addition to any clothing, guaranteed to attract attention. Just a simple dress and a unique image is ready. Dry-cleaning recommended. Available now for $200.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #3 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Seamless handbag for sale
Handbag by Sylwia.
Handmade from felted all-natural Australian and South American wool. Entirely felted, seamless. Finished with a white lining, inside is a small pocket. Lining is sewn and stitched in by hand. Available now for $180.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #4 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Patchwork quilt for sale
Patchwork quilt by Alicja.
Bedspread made of cotton and polyester material. Inserted with polyester lining. 90 by 70 cm. Available now for $120.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #5 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Nuno-felt shawl for sale
Shawl by Sylwia.
Scarf made with the nuno felting technique (wet felting fibre into a silk gauze) using South American wool. Two-sided scarf with latticework at the ends. Wholly in the colors red, black, green in an abstract pattern. Available now for $100.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #6 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Clara the doll for sale
Clara by Alicja.
Clara loves roses and greenery, adores tormenting spiders with long legs and sleeping soundly in the afternoon. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #7 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Noah the doll for sale
Noah by Alicja.
Noah doesn't know what to like and what not to like but keeps wondering and thinking about it. Cuddly toy made of cotton and polyester, stuffed with polyester lining. Available now for $70.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #8 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Black suspenders for sale
Black suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders from black material with a rose motif on one side and striped cotton on the other. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #9 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Orange suspenders for sale
Orange suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and orange material with a Polish floral folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #10 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Green suspenders for sale
Green suspenders by Zuzanna.
Two-sided suspenders made of denim and green material with a mountain folk design. Connected by a leather triangle. Adjustable length. Hand washing in cold water recommended. Available now for $50.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #11 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Felt earrings for sale
Felt earrings by Dorota.
Material: South American woolen yarn, dyed, 100% wool. Hand-worked with a needle. Pendant of anti-allergenic metal. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #12 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Round ceramic earrings for sale
Round ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #13 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
Oblong ceramic earrings for sale
Oblong ceramic earrings by Dorota.
Material: Glazed ceramics, hand-molded. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #14 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
'Coral' necklace for sale
Corals by Sylwia.
Necklace made of cotton pieces with organdy and decorated with beads, suspended on cotton strings. Can be worn as a necklace, as a brooch or as a belt tied at the side. Available now for $40.00. Ships free of additional charge via USPS (uninsured) unless otherwise directed.
To purchase please mail a USPS money order in an envelope clearly marked Lot #1/Item #15 to M. Slaby at house number 201 on Ridge Road in the town of West Milford, in the state of New Jersey, one of the beautiful United States of America. The postal code is 07480-3112.
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