A Texas man is going viral after bidding on a guitar signed by Taylor Swift and then smashing it with a hammer.The video, which has since been shared on multiple social media networks, shows the man grab the guitar after placing the winning bid of $4,000 and attempting to break it into pieces.
“When the man announced his intention to smash it the camera phones came out,” an event attendee told The Independent.
The viral moment happened at the Ellis County Wild Game Dinner in Waxahachie, Texas on September 28. The event acted as a fundraiser to support agricultural and rural education for the local youth.
Tickets to see George Strait and Chris Stapleton, an African safari, a trip to the Kentucky Bourbon Trail, and the Taylor Swift guitar were among the prizes being auctioned off.
When it came time to start the bidding on the Taylor Swift guitar, one man offered $3,200 for the signed guitar. According to the event organizer, the winning bidder paid $4,000 for the item.
In the viral video, the winner can be seen approaching the stage to claim the guitar. As he grabs the guitar, he is also handed a hammer which he takes and swiftly begins hitting against the instrument.
Some viewers have suggested the man beat the guitar due to Swift’s recent endorsement of Kamala Harris, though according to TMZ the guitar was donated well before Swift made her announcement.
The man’s actions sparked a debate with some people applauding him for destroying the guitar and others saying he should have donated his money directly to charity.
“What a waste of money,” one person wrote.
“It wasn’t a waste of $$ at all! The $4,000 he spent did go to the kids. The proceeds for the dinner went to the Future Farmers of America,” another chimed in.
What do you think of this man’s actions? Let us know in the comments.
She inquired, “What’s the price for the eggs?” The elderly seller responded, “0.25 cents per egg
The old egg seller, his eyes weary and hands trembIing, continued to sell his eggs at a loss. Each day, he watched the sun rise over the same cracked pavement, hoping for a miracle. But the world was indifferent. His small shop, once bustling with life, now echoed emptiness.
The townspeople hurried past him, their footsteps muffled by their own worries. They no longer stopped to chat or inquire about the weather. The old man’s heart sank as he counted the remaining eggs in his baskets. Six left. Just six. The same number that the woman had purchased weeks ago.
He remembered her vividly—the woman with the determined eyes and the crisp dollar bill. She had bargained with him, driving a hard bargain for those six eggs. “$1.25 or I will leave,” she had said, her voice firm. He had agreed, even though it was less than his asking price. Desperation had cIouded his judgment.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The old seller kept his promise, selling those six eggs for $1.25 each time. He watched the seasons change—the leaves turning from green to gold, then falling to the ground like forgotten dreams. His fingers traced the grooves on the wooden crate, worn smooth by years of use.
One bitter morning, he woke to find frost cIinging to the windowpane. The chill seeped through the cracks, settling in his bones. He brewed a weak cup of tea, the steam rising like memories. As he sat on the same wooden crate, he realized that he could no longer afford to keep his small shop open.
The townspeople had moved on, their lives intertwined with busier streets and brighter lights. The old man packed up his remaining eggs, their fragile shells cradled in his weathered hands. He whispered a silent farewell to the empty shop, its walls bearing witness to countless stories—the laughter of children, the haggling of customers, and the quiet moments when he had counted his blessings.
Outside, the world was gray—a canvas waiting for a final stroke. He walked the familiar path, the weight of those six eggs heavier than ever. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement. He reached the edge of town, where the road met the horizon.
And there, under the vast expanse of sky, he made his decision. With tears in his eyes, he gently placed the eggs on the ground. One by one, he cracked them open, releasing their golden yoIks. The wind carried their essence away, a bittersweet offering to the universe.
The old egg seller stood there, his heart as fragile as the shells he had broken. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. And in that quiet moment, he whispered a prayer—for the woman who had bargained with him, for the townspeople who had forgotten, and for himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he turned away from the empty road. His footsteps faded, leaving behind a trail of memories. And somewhere, in the vastness of the universe, six golden yolks danced—a silent requiem for a forgotten dream.
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