Trojan-enz anybody?

Hmmmmm, what to do with the 13 leftover rubbers from our Costco 40 pack that I'll NEVER EVER not EVER NEVER have to use again? (thank you tubal) Auction them off on eBay to some horny underage kid with stodgy, clueless parents? Donate them to the bathroom of our local suburban strip mall Starbucks where the over-privileged, angst-ridden, Sex Pistols look-alike Carmel Valley youth groom their mohawk, sip Double Fudgey Lattes, drag on fags and cruise chicks? Give them away to a frantic mother of 3 screaming children pushing her stuffed cart through the diaper section of our neighborhood Vons? Or perhaps make a postmodernist collage of them randomly thrown  onto our old (ahem) stained bedspread (where they oftentimes were not used in time, hastening my frantic final fixing fer good), glued down for good measure, and hung inside the garage wall (my man's man cave) as a memorial to the good ole' days. (not)

And while we're at it, does anyone want my leftover Vicodin stash? I've got 16 out of the 20 they supposedly generously-but-really-premeditatedly prescribed me after my tubal. Who are they trying to fool? They're so trying to get me hooked. And while I'm spring cleaning, I might as well add in the big fat bottle of 600 mg Motrin they padded the Vicodin with. I've got 58 out of 60 of those fat suckers left.

So if any of you dear readers are jonesin' for some cheap pain relief or a good case of constipation or perhaps wanna remember how much you hate latex in your dry vagina, holla.