Michal keeps making films for women... Is he trying to lose money?
Posted:
I'm not a fool. I know that most people indulge their baser emotions. Wanting to feel dominant or submissive comes easy. Wanting to approach someone on an equal basis and reaping joy from that requires a high level of cooperation. It requires you to consider another person's needs as if they were your own.
Despite the enormous challenge, I'm learning to listen to women. Everyone should have the same chance to reap the benefits of that knowledge.
I've decided to export fine art handcrafted by women in Poland to America. High quality handcrafted art produced by high quality women deserves to be shared. The more I can sell stateside to people who know the difference, the more I can buy from those whose worthy hands to continue the fight for openness and equality, a fight that I've taken to the world wide web.
Your support ensures that films for women will make a difference.
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Janina: An Oral History of the Twentieth Century in Southern Poland
Chapter 8: A Royal Capital City
Janina's discussion of two monuments in Lwów, one a statue of a folk artist who belonged to an ethnic Ukrainian minority, and the other a townhouse built by a Polish king, illustrates an important aspect of the region's past.
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...
Four days after I arrived in Poland, the largely Catholic country was celebrating Corpus Christi, complete with solemn processions down the street. Three days later I had made a solemn vow that if given the chance to express it, I would show love to a woman I had only just met.
Though I felt fully formed as a writer, and had been trained in visual language, it was my first time with a professional camera in my hands. I was just learning the ins and outs and had come to Europe to find as diverse a selection of subject matter as possible, preferably something that fit my aesthetic devotion to promoting body acceptance. Enter Margo.
I was American. Freshly arrived in Europe and the new owner of a '97 Ford Escort made in Germany. The only thing I had to complain about was the fact that the owner's manual was in German. She was from Poland, and a German-language owner's manual for a car bought in Poland wasn't the only thing she had to complain about. Something as small as that didn't even register.
I've never gone hungry without deserving it. I've never been systemically beaten by a parent. I've never been fondled by a priest. That doesn't mean I can't listen to somebody who has had to experience such abuse and it doesn't mean I can't try to understand. Margo and I traveled 6,000 miles together. We slept in the same tent. We had to listen to each other. A person shouldn't need 6,000 miles to do it. We should be able to listen to each other just because we want to. We should've been taught to do it. If we haven't been taught, we should be learning how to do it and learning fast.
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: Literature Book
I fondly remember the Scholastic Book Club catalogs I got in elementary school when I was a kid. I was always looking forward to getting them. It was fun to read all the descriptions and figure out what types of literature interested me the most, although it was particularly upsetting if a world literature anthology I liked was too expensive to even think about buying. I had to make informed decisions. Otherwise it meant a trip to the library and the hope that somebody else wouldn't have checked out any of my books-to-read.
There was one book that was always at the library but that I never had the courage to check out. It wasn't science fiction. It was a book about sex. I was afraid to hold it. Opening it made my heart race. I was afraid to be seen standing in the aisle. I had to switch aisles. I was a long way from the children's section but this was the one place in my world where I could see what a naked girl my age looked like. In the photograph she was standing in a line of girls and women, each progressively taller, older, rounder, fuller. If I had been able to at the time, I would've given this book a nobel prize just for this photograph. I wanted to know what girls were hiding and this was the one book that had the courage to show me the truth. Just having the chance to see the truth was satisfying, not to mention the fact that I was fascinated by the changes represented in those bodies. That I had to hide myself in a corner of a public library in Lincoln, Nebraska in order to see this truth opened up many questions for me.
The last time I was in a library I saw a grown man sitting in front of a computer unashamedly clicking through pictures of large breasts in bikinis on Facebook. If this man were able to do it, I'm sure he would give Facebook a nobel prize for providing this type of literature. He and I are products of a culture that fetishizes the human body. All primitive cultures fetishize something. They give it a specific charge, either positive or negative. It's the "why" that drives a community. Cowboys drive a herd of cattle by negatively fetishizing the land on either side. Men are driven the same way. For us to build a truly free society, one marked not just by sophisticated technology but also by a sophisticated culture, we will have to destroy the fetishes that drive us.
It doesn't matter what types of literature you like. Whether you like reading science-fiction or sampling world literature of an adult nature, just keep in mind that your choice is a little nobel prize of its own. Your choice dictates what kind of writing takes place. If you want humanity to live like cattle, do nothing. If you want to be a cowboy like me, see the fetish for what it is. Destroy its power.
Pronunciation of Literature Book
I have yet to publish a pronunciation for the words "literature book."
Video of me pronouncing "literature book."
Definition of Literature Book
A Literature Book is something that doesn't usually sell a lot of copies.
References for literature book
I have yet to find good references for Literature Book
Samples of Fiction from Michal's 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.
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 #7368
im gonna take as much as i can carry and jump into the car. just the important stuff. the sutures. some bandages. the sulfa. maybe the book.
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.
My cousin Stalin was able to procure for us a record of all authorized shipments from the Czech Republic, especially those from Brno which had passed through the southwestern border since the terrorist insurgency in Germany. Meanwhile, Sapper was sent with a blank check to the diesel fuel station at the border - "the only diesel fuel station around for miles," according to his old friend Washington Dulles. Your father told him to buy everything: the whole station: the building, the record books, the fuel. Sapper got it all for a nice, little price. The owner almost blew his load out of gratitude.
Jesus was always ready to drink, as long as 'Uncle' were going to pay for it. Somehow, his uncle had money for all kinds of rectified spirits even though his own family could barely afford to eat. Jesus himself was scraping up dirt. His father was a goddamned heroin addict; now that his bastard uncle was an alcoholic liar too deep in debt to keep his stores open, Jesus had no steady source of cash. With fewer and fewer books to read, Jesus had more and more time to waste. He begged his uncle to let him reopen at least one store.
My dear child, if you ever walk by a dirty, old man talking to himself and selling his own books, and you wonder how this man came to be like this, now you'll know at least one way.
At the time of her sudden death, Jesus's father was engaged in some very serious litigation - had been for quite some time. As long as Jesus could remember, his father had been poring over books: law books, books on health, books covering conflicts of law, international arbitration, personal injury cases, adjective law - the list was endless; the books were heavy and full of small print: Jesus didn't care much for them, but he knew, from an early age, that somehow they were intimately tied to his father's income, his mother's illness and his own persistent loneliness, for it seemed like those books, while keeping his father occupied for lengthy periods of time, would also send him far away, to places that Jesus would never have known existed if not for geography. Jesus blamed those books, even though they kept his father close to him, for keeping his father preoccupied. They angered him - they angered his father if they proved unhelpful or troublesome - but Jesus's anger was stronger: he hated the books for taking away his father's attention (once, his father had mercilessly spanked him for ripping out a few pages, which the young Jesus had done out of frustration for being neglected) but ultimately (notwithstanding the great pain of that episode) Jesus blamed the books for something far, far worse: a much meaner and grosser negligence. He blamed them for letting his mother die.
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.
Now I understand that you may be unaware of certain conditions. And I also understand that you may be superstitiously afraid of discussing a situation that is not only beyond your direct control but upon which your own feelings and desires precariously hinge. But how do you expect me to help you when you neglect to mention your own involvement? Considering what you have told me, don't you think it's important to mention everything else? I have to hear it from our mother? who, of course, has to hear it from Indiana? Did you honestly think it wouldn't reach me? How can you be so childish? You were obviously well aware that I knew nothing about it; I would have chastised you immediately. Liszt! Of all people, you decide to play Liszt! You know how twisted that is.
After Nike left us, we went back to Vinnie's. Before long, the auction started and Luke began reassuring Barbara that he would help jack up the price. I told him to stop being silly; we had only been kidding and if Luke actually started bidding he would only ruin the poor girl's reputation. Instead, I offered my own services: if the need should arrive, I would start a bidding war. Barbara loved the idea. "You'll make all the guys jealous!" she said, and she told me to do it anyway; but I had to laugh because I wasn't really serious when I said it. But before I could say that, something happened and Barbara's attention was taken away. I was left feeling obliged; Barbara's turn was coming up, and just as I was wondering what sort of impression I would make, our collusion was trumped by the two girls in front: they started making out.
However, I did get a nice refresher course not so long ago; and what a strange coincidence that it was all thanks to Babs! You remember Barbara: my ever so young college friend; I met her the same night I wrote you that letter. And of course! I distinctly remember trying to describe her to you, or rather, more precisely, to present her in a way that might entice you: that whole bit about her phone number - which I still have for you by the way: it's never too late. She'll be graduated soon; I don't think she has any plans. But, I suppose, you're too far away for the time being. Besides, it may in fact be too late. You know she's really quite attractive, more so now than when she was younger: nature has taken its time to refine her features; she doesn't have to do much to help it. She only bleaches her teeth once in a while, and not because she's vain but because she's addicted to coffee, which is perhaps the worst of her faults - and only because I know you hate coffee.
If he were to catch so much as a look between the two of you, do you have any idea what his reaction would be? You cannot underestimate the importance of a look. It was a look that you shared with Indiana all those years ago that has now refined everything I once knew. Looks are very potent creatures. They will define a course of action, they will spur it, and, at any moment, if their master so desire, a terrible look will cause a once determined person to abandon any hope of success. Do not forget what a stern face can do. If you must, remind yourself in the mirror, and keep this knowledge handy; there is more power in the face than in either hand, more truth in the eye than in any utterance known to man. That is the last word of advice I will allow myself; I seem to have grown so much older since I first began writing this letter.
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.
"That is footage," explained the judge, "from a planted security camera on the nightstand of a human bookmaker who lived on the far side of the moon. You can see him in the left-hand corner. He's lying in bed."
Tatum laughed. She gave Uzumaki an icy stare. She said, "It seems a bit more sinister than that."
Uzumaki nodded. He said, "Pat was a decent man. He was a friend of mine. He started gambling. When he said he met your ex-wife in a casino, I wasn't surprised."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"He was extorting bookmakers on the far side. It was his accomplice you saw on the video."
Pat took back the device. "This occurred two days ago," said Uzumaki, "in an eastern district of Pf Chang. A week earlier, a Hentai Manga bookie was found dead in Blorpshire. We've traced the weapon to one stolen from a bailiff two years ago. Since then, our leads have dried up.
As fate would have it, the Asian-Australian had a thing for high-society debutantes. In Junior's book, they defined ordinary. For a professional like Sammy D, they were a welcome change of pace-a challenge-a soft pie hiding behind a thick upper crust, no doubt spoiled by daddy's love, in need of mommy's punishment. The sight of a stern woman in boots, breeches, riding jacket and helmet was making the hussy sweat.
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.
GREY GOOSE: Are you saying you didn't squeal to the Aussies?
MS. JACKSON: I'm saying I didn't have to.
GREY GOOSE: Swear to me that you said nothing.
MS. JACKSON: I won't.
GREY GOOSE: Swear to it.
MS. JACKSON: No.
GREY GOOSE: Swear on the Holy Book.
MS. JACKSON: There will be no such swearing in my house.
GREY GOOSE: My house, woman! My house!
MS. JACKSON: Not anymore, you mangy, little womanizing can't-keep-his-hands-off-my-cook's-bottom descendent of a drunken, wife-beating man-whore!
A story book full of short fiction stories. An interesting bedtime mystery. A fairy tale. Science fiction romance. Adult life. Uninspiring gay fiction. Horror.
Grendel went to the library after school. She found a book about bodies. It had pictures of naked girls in it. One girl looked like her. The others were taller. They were standing next to a woman with fat breasts. There were pictures of boys too. Each one hairier than the next. Grendel's heart leapt into her throat. She quickly put the book away.
One day Orbitz finally emerged from his hotel room. He was carrying what looked like a book. He went into the shop. "It's you again," said the shopkeeper. "What do you want?" Orbitz said nothing. He dropped the book on the counter and left. One half of the surveillance team followed him all the way to the space port. The other half decided to find out what was going on. They raided the shop. They found nothing. The book Orbitz had been carrying was an antique. It was stamped with the name of the hotel. When one of the agents went to the hotel to ask about it the clerk behind the desk wanted it back. He said every room was supposed to have one. It was tradition. He had no idea why. He said the owner would get mad if one of them disappeared. The owner was questioned about the book. He said the same thing. It was tradition. Every room had a book. Every book was the same. He didn't know why. He didn't care to know. The Amazon cared. According to his sources there was a chance the book had a connection to the Wiki-en Society. He ordered the hotel closed. He arrested the owner and the entire staff. They proved themselves innocent quickly. The Astrazeneca found no deception in them. The shopkeeper was different. He was held long after the others had been released. He wasn't lying about Orbitz. He had never seen the man before in his life. He was lying about the way he did business. He claimed he was an honest businessman. It was a lie. He claimed he knew a good bargain when he saw one. Another lie. The Amazon wondered what was happening. Orbitz had gone from the space port to a low orbit cruise ship. Aboard the same ship was Sara Lee. The scientist who had confounded the Astrazeneca in the first place. He assigned a surveillance team to watch her. She walked around and gazed at the blue planet. She didn't see Orbitz at all.
The hill in question had about a hundred boxes split along two streets both rising in diverging directions from the same point on Profile Road until curving back upon themselves and meeting at the top of the hill in the form of Facebook Terrace. It was formerly under the complete purview of Rural Rural Route 10 until Rural Rural Route 10 was disbanded upon the retirement of Old Man Dickinson and split between Rural Routes 2 and 4. Rural Rural Route 4 received the entire hill to much joy at the turn of the next pay period. Until winter came and the disrepair of Update Street combined with the freezing runoff on Download Street caused much grumbling and more than a few broken mailboxes. Still the money was good.
Grendel kept coming back to the book. She read about penises and vaginas. She learned about sexual intercourse. It had to do with a man and a woman in bed kissing. Like her mother and the ogre. There was a picture of it but it didn't look anything like a man or a woman. It was squiggly lines.
The year came and went faster than Sir Lewis could've hoped. Before he knew it he was settled into his dorm. He had his books. His final schedule. Syllabi for every class. He even had his homework done for about half his professors. It was time for math club.
To promote democracy, the strong must empty themselves of their strength. The weak must be granted the opportunity to grow strong. We cannot force the end of patriarchy. To do so simply perpetuates feudalism under a different name.
Help maintain the "Literature Book" page alive...
If you love women and art...
Michal's importing Polish art...is he bonkers?
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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