Please take my couch. There’s not a thing wrong with it, but the doorways in my new place are far too narrow to accommodate it. Take the air conditioner, too. It’s perfect for a small apartment. It rattles and leaks a little, and I’ve lost all the window brackets, but it’ll do the job come August.

This bookcase is yours for the asking. The front corner kind of slumps, so you’ll have to devote at least one of your books to propping it up. You’ll also probably notice the 30 Ben & Jerry’s bumper stickers on the left side. They seemed like a fun idea at the time. There’s one more on the back panel of the shelf second from the top, but that’s only because I bought the case as a floor model and didn’t notice that someone had gouged a line of swastikas into it.

You like video games, don’t you? I’m upgrading consoles, so you can have my FunBoxx, which I got free with 10 breakfast sandwiches. I’ve got a couple of games, too. In Jungle Jump, you watch a mongoose hop up and down until you snap and put your fist through the screen. Odyssey of the Gnomes is supposed to be spectacular, but unfortunately the FunBoxx controller always locks up after about 10 minutes. Right about the time the clan elder sends you on your quest, your quest is actually over. After a while, your fellow villagers waddle over and say things like “Hurry, hurry! There’s no time to lose!” and “You must be on your way, JSR_Sex_Warlock!” But all you can do is stand there as the ghoul hordes set the turnip fields ablaze.

Please take this coffeemaker. It’s got a 12-cup carafe and uses paper filters. The auto-drip activates at 11:05 p.m. daily whether this is something you think should happen or not. (Unplugging the machine is effective in preventing this only, say, a third of the time.) The coffee sometimes has bits of fiberglass and moon rock in it, but, when it’s all said and done, you get your java buzz. Also, this appliance has been known to vanish without explanation for hours at a time.

My shower massager isn’t going to fit on the spout in my new place, so you might as well have it. It’s got four settings: The “Produce” setting releases an intermittent mist, and the dew will lift the shampoo from your hair in about six months. The “Standard” setting essentially simulates your existing water pressure, just in case you enjoy the sensation of having thrown your money away. The “Massage” setting used to be perfect after a long day of work, but at some point it was actually cannibalized by the next setting, “Bruise.” (That’s an exaggeration, by the way. You won’t get a bruise unless you continuously expose a specific region of your body for more than 30 seconds. It’s best to sort of shimmy around a lot. Random movements are key.) The last setting has no name. The water simply explodes from the open jaws of a skull. If I’ve used it, I have no memory of the event.

Please take this Blues Traveler CD.

You’ll love this microwave oven. It’s the kind of high-end appliance you’ll want to tell all your neighbors about. And since it’s also a registered sex offender, you’ll kind of have to. The popcorn preset has been known to cause brownouts that cross state lines, and I’m not sure what I did, but the turntable has precisely adjusted its rotation speed to match that of the planet Venus. Be aware that it will take almost a year for your pizza rolls to make the full trip around, and plan your Super Bowl party accordingly. Oh, gosh, I almost forgot to mention that this microwave is covered with unblinking eyes.

I’d love to offer you this ice-cream maker. But, deep down, I know it will never let me go.