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Welcome back to where the stuff never stops. Let’s see what we have for you nice folks tonight.

Now, I’ve heard of scalping tickets . . .

These faceless angels creep me out: the identity-less-ness of them is as jarring and wrongheaded as, say, an angel image with your own face, which would also be unsettling. They’re not us, but they’re not nobody, either. Anyway, this one, whoever it isn’t, will obligingly hold your flowers for you.

Time will have run out on this one before you see it, but honestly, you’ve probably got something like it lying out in your back yard even now.

UPDATE: This has indeed timed out, and you don’t even get a glimpse of the picture, so I’ll just tell you that it was a STICK, shaped vaguely, and I mean vaguely, like the Corpus on a crucifix. It timed out with 0 bids, at a starting price of $.99. See what you missed?

UPDATE #2: I stand corrected. You do get to see this item for about thirty seconds before you’re shunted over to Other Cruciform Items Which Might Interest You. Well, in this case it ought to be Corpiform Items, but most of the time you don’t get B without A, if you see what I mean. Anyway, the more I look at it, in thirty-second increments, the more I think it looks like either one of these, tastefully rendered in chickenbone.

Too late now, though.

A specialty item surely someone can use.

On the other hand, I really don’t want to think about what people might do while wearing this costume on Halloween.

Here’s something of possible interest: a silver religious statue which resembles one pictured in a Civil War collectibles dictionary.

Whoa. Won’t you take me on pilgrimage to Funky Town. There’s really nothing else to say about this thing.

See, here’s what I’m talking about. They’re not anonymous, but they’re not, like, the Babysitters Club with wings, either.

If you happen to have fifteen hundred smackerolies lying around doing nothing in your bank account right now, this might interest you. Looks nice on the tiger-skin rug, anyway.

Another one! No facial features, but a sunburn.

Now why in the heck isn’t anyone dressing up like him for Halloween? Religious radio celebrities of the 1930s and ’40s would seem to present an untapped vein of costuming possibility. Never mind that nobody but nobody would guess who you were supposed to be . . .

The seller isn’t sure what this is, but thinks it’s religious.

I’m too tired to think of anything coherently witty to say about this, though images of throwing underhand and squealing every time the ball comes this way are flapping their girly little running hands through my mind. What any of that would have to do with prayer I do not begin to know.

Finally, lest we forget what we’re about, an icon.

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