When it comes to tragedies, the number of fucks I give for the victims follows a simple formula.
I start with a billion fucks. Then I subtract the combined net worth of the people affected by the tragedy. The result is how many fucks I give about their tragedy.
For this one, I’m at about negative three billion fucks.
Now I’m imagining a National Treasure-style heist, where OP has to smuggle this out of the museum by pretending it’s his own for a three-day hitchhiking adventure back to the buyer’s safehouse, and that’s why he asked the three-day challenge question.
A good friend of mine made good money turning glass bottles of various types into bongs. The best sellers were the marble soda bottles with unlicensed Hello Kitty labels, but Sanrio C&D’d him pretty fucking quick.
Otherwise, I can say for 100% certainty that the answer is absolutely not pretty rocks wrapped up in wire, aka, “jewelry”. Every lazy wannabe craft fair monarch is pumping out these low-effort bits of trash to the point that at least a third of the booths at any craft fair I go to is just stuffed to the gills with them.
It’s 2030. The world has changed. Russia has fallen. Ralph Nader’s reanimated cyborg-corpse is president. Britain is back in the EU. And Lemmy is known everywhere as “The Poop Site”.