I once owned a bullet fired by William Burroughs.
But I lost it. In San Fransico. So if anybody there fines it, it’s mine.
I have an amazing little rock that’s shaped exactly like a pickle. It’s greyish green with yellow speckles. It even has axial ribs like a pickle. I can’t look at it without feeling an uncontrollable urge to take a bite out of it.
I found it in the playground when I was in grammar school – I believe I was in fourth or fifth grade at the time. It was just sitting in the sand, waiting for me to come along and pick it up. I was so happy! 
-DP
Most unusual items(I guess):
A copy of All I Need Is Love by Klaus Kinski. Found in a clearance bookstore for $3.99 after the book was withdrawn due to lawsuits.
Vinyl copies of two Kinky Friedman albums. Kinky Friedman and Lasso From El Paso.
My wisdom teeth I had the dentist save when I had them pulled.
A hand stitched leather wallet made by a prisoner in the local jail that my stepfather got the guy to make for me. Why, I have no idea.
“Grab on the way out of the burning house” prized possession: A framed piece of my father’s calligraphy work he did for me. It says: “Better is one’s own path though imperfect than the path of another well made.” That saying meant a lot to him since he couldn’t always live that way himself, and he told me to never forget it and to try to live by it.
My brother’s ashes, which are in a small, wax sealed bottle on my dresser. My two other brothers have a portion, my mother has a portion, and the rest were buried on my parent’s farm. Everything else can go, but Mark comes with me.
I have several paintings that I’d sure hate to lose, especially the John Constable. Also, there’s an Alibates flint hand axe that’s pretty special.
I don’t have anything nearly as impressive as the others on this list, but one thing that I’d try really hard to save would be (aside from the animals) is a copy of E.R. Chamberlin’s The Bad Popes. It’s just such an elegant and beautilfully made book, that I feel more “cultured” or something having it. It shows me what people can do if they really try, and what I’d like to do if I could. Also, its a fun read.
i never thought i could build a computer from scratch and have it work, but i did, and got an amazing machine for very little dough. its my prized possession.
I just noticed a startling resemblance of my post to a favorite Simpson’s quote of mine.
Grandpa Simpson: “I never thought I could shoot down a German plane, but last year I proved myself wrong”
Two AM/SW radios built by my father near the end of WWII while he was recuperating at a hospital in Cheney WA. I still keep them working, tubes and all. Since he died when I was very little…
An amazing “Texas Star” quilt by one of my grandmothers, hangs on the living room wall. (Just barely saved from being sold by a greedy aunt and uncle.) Lot’s of doilies and such by my other grandmother. Another quilt made by several family members, lot of family history stuff sewn into it.
A little magazine stand made by a grandfather.
Yeah, I got a lot of vintage comics, including #1 Metal Men and Hawkman, but they’re replaceable. The above aren’t.
My stuffed animal which is a dog, it looks like Lassie (her name is Baby lassie) yes, its childish 
its the same age as me, so it will be 18 in august, it has no fur left, full of holes, and i still sleep with it in my bed everynight
whenever i crash at someones house, i feel so naked without it…if something ever happened to it, id probably die
another thing would be my car, 84 chevette, its been there since i was born too. Ive had people litterally point n laugh at me cuz i drive it, its been attempted to be broken into (i still dont know how that person couldnt get in, must have been a real moron, so he stole my hubcaps instead), but i still love it, its my baby. its 18 years old, never broken down, and its just finally starting to rust
thats chevy for ya
I guess my strangest possession would be my faux human-brain-in-a-jar that’s alarmed many an unsuspecting visitor—either that, or my prized four-foot cobra skin.
My fleeing-from-house-fire-item: the crib quilt my grandmother made for me that I’ve never slept without.
I guess my strangest possession would be my faux human-brain-in-a-jar that’s alarmed many an unsuspecting visitor—either that, or my prized four-foot cobra skin.
My fleeing-from-house-fire-item: the crib quilt my grandmother made for me that I’ve never slept without.
Scrappy. He’s a small, white stuffed dog with red floppy ears. I got him for Valentine’s Day from my mom when I was four. I’ve had him ever since, and whenever I travel, I take him with me. He had his own voice and personality, which still comes out every now and again today (although his voice has changed quite a bit over the past nineteen years, thank God :)). I used to get into trouble a lot at school because I would sneak him there, and then Scrappy would cause a disturbance and get the class riled up. He was banned from grade school at least ten times. He’s now gray, his eyes and nose are chipped, and his spine is finally starting to come undone. But I still love him just the same. (Damn, I’m so lame).
I have a book of sheet music autographed by Ben Folds. I met him after a show in Rochester.
And I finally got Jose Canseco’s autograph. He has been my favorite baseball player since I was 8. This past weekend, he was in town with the Charlotte Knights, and he graciously signed a lot of autographs before the game. So now I have a baseball card autographed by him, and it’s even one of those super-cool cards that has a piece of his jersey on it.
I also really dig my authentic San Jose Sharks jersey with my own name on the back.
Well, I have a couple of good candidates, including a quilt from my grandmother’s bed and a bizarro stuffed hippo wearing a brocade dress that someone is going to get as a white elephant someday.
But one thing that is unusual because of why it is prized is a stuffed animal that is a possum with a baby on its back. My husband bought it for me at the the hospital gift shop when I was in labor and it hung out in our room while we waited for Cranky Jr to be born. When I had to get a c-section, the anesthesiologist noticed it and as a bit of whimsy said I should take it with us to the operating room (we didn’t ask; it was his idea). So… a nurse put it into a surgical hat and it went along on my bed. They wouldn’t let my doula in the room, but the possum was there. I think it had a better view of Cranky’s birth than I did! I get a kick out of that. The possum is now in my son’s room. I’ll keep it forever.
My shoes, I take them everywhere with me. 