Inspired by the now-defunct Drunkgamers.com Drunksaling adventures, Unitdaisy and I started doing the same in Chicago! For those unfamiliar with the term drunksaling it's simple: garage sales + booze, all in the name of video game deals.

This weeks antics took place on June 5th, 2004.

Unfortunately the last few weeks in Chicago have been storm central, lending itself to no sales and really, very little way in the terms of hospitable living. Luckily Chicago caught a break this week, and the forecast predicted sun & warmth.

But before I get into that, check out the most brilliant For Sale ad ever!

Whatta seller. Moving right along ... it was a sad, lone trek to the first sale which had next to nothing of interest.

The only noteworthy aspect of this sale is that it wasn't.

Unfortunately, the bordering sales were about as enticing, although one had some stamps that I could have used. They weren't priced though. In fact, I don't think anything was priced. If you want us to buy your shit, give it a price. As it was, I couldn't be bothered to take off my headphones to inquire.

My sentiments exactly.

One sale I went to wouldn't start until 1pm. In fact, I had to dwaddle around waiting for it to open, however it was one that promised to contain games. When allowed in, from the looks of the apartment it was a college couple (or couple recently sprung from college) that were moving, and they were incredibly disorganized.

Just the box - no handheld inside.

This was the only legit, console game to be seen in that little garden apartment.

I should add that, other than Seaman, he had a load of additional Dreamcast games. Unfortunately, they were all pirated. That's right, ream after ream of CD-R's with names like Soul Calibur, Cannon Spike and Power Stone - but I was not tempted by their yummy illicit smell! Plus I already owned 90% of the DC games he stole.

What the man of the house did have was a cardboard box full of music cds - not your usual trash but some quality IDM, electronic and experimental albums - all going for 50¢! Unfortunately there were two detractinons - if the cd wasn't in the case, he had no idea where it was (a fine Squarepusher album is crying out for me somewhere), and secondly there was a middle-aged man who insisted on being the mediator between the cd cases and their possibly non-existent cds. I'm not sure if he thought he was helping, but he was creepy. I ran. I ran so far away.

This garage is missing a sale.

Hey, it's the Golden Apple! As seen in our second Drunksaling article ever!

Ah, the Fellini condo block.

On the way to the next sale I walked by The Ark, a local thrift store that is known for their craptitude.

A blight for thrift-store buyers everywhere.

Turns out, they don't even bother selling items anymore - they just throw it all to the curb.

I wandered to a few additional sales, mostly full of $20 handhelds...

...and Bioenergy 'discs'.

Proving that there's a big difference between Bioenergy and Bioware.

There was one more big sale on my 'must not wimp out on' list:

I just had to see what kind of sale sells all that, plus adult video tapes? Turns out, one that isn't too concerned with legalities. Check out these grey market tapes:

Ah, the Emmy-consideration VHS version of Lucky. I wasn't aware this was for commercial resale.

They had rows of typical pop-fare CDs as well, this Ditto drive...

Ghosts of Iomega past.

While I think every garage sale should sell booze, I'd prefer them to be weak liquid candy.

Justice League plushies - for the Cartoon Network/DC collector in you.

And yes, they hadn't sold all of their pornography either..

In fact, they had one whole table full of it! However, by that time I 'sensed' that the woman running the sale wasn't too keen on my photography skills. Didn't matter, there was another sale next door that was also entirely lacking concerning games. I did however, get to hear a little story by the operator of that sale about his next door neighbor and the neighbor's wife. It wasn't a pretty story either. In fact, it was one of those stories that ends in tears. But I digress.

So. 2pm and all I had found was a copy of Seaman. No, wait! I found some free ice cream!

What you don't see is the line all the way across the block for a free cone. People have absolutely no idea what their time is worth. Or, sadly maybe they do.

In one final, desperate grab at finding something worthwhile, I stopped off a local thrift store that was actually open. All I found was a lone pinball game. It's like a modern tragedy.

The little-known precursor to Serious Sam!

That tore it. With my pride shattered, I dragged myself to the closest bar - tail between my legs.

Ah, the three worthwhile items found this week. Kid 606's Don't Sweat the Technics, Chuck Barris's Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and my Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

Find of the week: That Sierra Nevada Pale Ale pint. Damn that was good.

Lesson of the week: Not so much for us customers but for those sellers - put prices on your wares!!

P.S. I'm sorry this week sucks. I'll try harder next week, I promise.