Shalampax Speaks

This notice is for Shalampaxians only. The rest of you can feel free to stop reading and make something of your lives instead.

I have good news and I have bad news. We finally got a long enough break in the weather to unload the supply ship that has been waiting at sea for more than a month.

The good news is that this means that we’ve been able to replenish our depleted toilet paper inventory. That’s very timely as we had almost run out of the copies of the Shalampax Criminal Code that we’ve been using as a substitute for toilet paper.

The bad news is that the Shalampax Clothing Store had placed a large order for underwear because it is now out-of-stock of that item. Unfortunately, the order got screwed up and, instead of normal underwear, the distributor sent adult diapers.

This could be critical as most of us in Shalampax don’t buy new underwear until our old pairs are worn down to their last few threads. If you were getting ready to invest in some new underwear you’re going to be out of luck. It will probably take a few months to get a new supply in, and that’s only if the weather breaks when the supply ship arrives. Otherwise, you’ll have to add as much as a few months to that estimate.

If you’re one of those people whose underwear is about to turn to dust, you have two options as far as I can see. One option is to not wear underwear at all. This is considered to be sexy, but it’s not likely to make up for an inherent total lack of sex appeal, which is an affliction that is the bane of most Shalampaxians’ existences.

The other option is to stock up on adult diapers and use them instead.

I wouldn’t be too quick to write off this option if I were you. It has definite advantages. For example, say you’re watching your favorite TV program and you feel a sudden need to take a crap or pee. No problem. You’re wearing diapers. Watch and go without ever leaving your couch.

Hell, if you crap, you don’t even need to stop eating pork rinds to wipe your ass afterward. Just change your diaper when the program ends.

Enjoy!

Miscellaneous adult diapers, toilet paper, underwear

Walking the business beat around here, I usually reserve this space to fill you in on any big deals going down in Shalampax or to tell you about our major industries. Not today.

Today, I’m going to tell you about our smallest industry. It has only one firm and its revenues are miniscule. In short, it’s pathetic and an embarrassment to any true Shalampaxian.

Paperplate runs The Shalampax Store, which sells … wait for it … Shalampax souvenirs.

Paperplate sells to only foreigners. That’s not surprising. No Shalampaxian would ever want a Shalampax memento. We live here. Most of us would leave in the bat of an eye if we could find a safe way off this Paahlm-forsaken island. Well, we’d also want to find a way to quash the international arrest warrants sworn out against pretty much all of us. But, other than that, we’d be out of here in an instant and never look back. We don’t want any stinking souvenirs.

Paperplate’s marketing strategy is to go after people who like to pretend that they are adventurous travelers. He figures they’ll want to fool their friends into thinking that they visited Shalampax. However, despite their feigned bravery, Paperplate is convinced that the faux voyagers won’t want to risk being cannibalized, which is how we usually welcome any outsiders who somehow manage to come here.

Beyond the fact that The Shalampax Store’s revenues would barely fill a thimble, Paperplate has a business model that makes Shalampaxians shudder. This unbelievable loser actually sells real stuff. His store pedals sweaters, t-shirts, postcards … you know, trinkets and trash.

The Shalampax Store has two shops, both sell the same goods, but with different designs. The Shalampax Flag Shop sells stuff emblazoned with the Shalampax flag and some trite words. The Shalampax Coat of Arms Shop sells stuff bearing, as you’ve probably guessed, the Shalampax coat of arms and again, of course, some trite words.

Paperplate uses a non-Shalampaxian company to take the orders, make the stuff and ship it. That’s understandable. There’s no way he could ever get a Shalampaxian to do manual labor.

What’s totally unconscionable to the minds of the rest of us Shalampaxians is that Paperplate also lets that company do the credit card processing. Can you imagine it? He voluntarily lets an honest, non-Shalampaxian company handle the credit card transactions!

Have you ever heard anything so daft? He never even gets to see the credit card numbers. He collects his puny few bucks on the markup on the merchandize and passes up any opportunity to skim money off his customers’ credit cards. It makes me weep!

You’re probably wondering, if I’m so disgusted with The Shalampax Store, why am I giving it space here?

The truth is, Paperplate is the poorest person in Shalampax. It’s not that I’m getting a heart and feeling sorry for him. Don’t worry about that. Paahlm forbid. He chose of his own free will to maintain his personal integrity. Nobody forced him to do that. It was entirely his choice and certainly not a choice that anyone else here would be foolish enough to make. If he’s so stupid as to have some scruples, he fully deserves his miserable condition as far as I’m concerned.

Nevertheless, Paperplate promised to compensate me in “nonmonetary ways” for plugging his pitiful little store here. I’ve never been as good as the other gals around here at using my womanly wiles to get me some, well, you know. So, please, check out The Shalampax Flag Shop and The Shalampax Coat of Arms Shop and buy some crappy souvenirs.

As for me, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an appointment with Paperplate to keep and I have to stop off and buy some ribbed condoms first — there’s no way that wretched bastard can afford any.

Miscellaneous bags, coat of arms, flag, hats, mugs, postcards, souvenirs, store, sweaters, sweatshirts, t-shirts, trash, trinkets, underwear