Donate Now and Help a Stranger

blood

What do you do with all the gallons of leftover breast milk your child just won’t drink? You donate it. Yep, joining the ranks of blood banks, hair donation, sperm firms, organ transplants and plasma, you can now donate breast milk. (Well, not me. And probably not most men.)

I guess you just walk into a milk bank (not to be confused with First Security Bank) and they hook you up to the Udderly Eazy Cow Milker 2000. The milk is then stored for preemies or other babies facing a mother’s milk shortage.

This made me wonder. Since I don’t donate blood (eww, needles) and I can’t donate sperm or breast milk, what other things can my body produce that other people might want?

I decided on the following:

  • Sweat: I can strap empty baby food jars under my armpits to catch my sweat because I don’t “glisten,” I sweat like an African elephant. Then I can hand little jars of sweat to those poor women in the gym who wear full make-up, push-up bras and never even glisten while sauntering on the treadmill and talking on their cell phones.
  • Hair oil: One day my hair is just fine. The next day it’s so oily I could barrel it and sell it to third world countries.
  • Leg hair: Each spring I harvest my leg hair. I could possibly bale it and sell it as horse feed. Or learn how to weave it into yarn and make a nice, scratchy blanket.

hairy

(Yep, time to shave.)

  • Fingernails: My nails break so often I should save them and form them into a turtle-esque shell for winter that I can hide in when it gets too cold. And I can paint it bubble gum pink. I could donate a new nail shelter to a homeless person each year.
  • Urine: I could donate my drug-free urine to people caught by surprise in those “random” drug tests at work. But I’m sure this idea is already implemented somewhere.
  • Tears: For drama queens/kings who need more people to cry.
  • Saliva: Suffering from dry mouth? Just take a swig of my donated spit and you’re good to go!
  • Sarcasm: Well, I already donate that enough. In fact, I’m banned from visiting the sarcasm bank anytime during the next year.
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