Consumerist
Ignoring all the Chapelle Show nonsense, there's no denying that Rick James was a bad motherfucker. His hair could pollute the pin feathers of an arctic duck at forty paces and he often wore spacesuits made from Rue McClanahan's lingerie.
Now you can own a "part of funk history" by bidding on this late '70s-era RJ jumpsuit, complete with—and here's where this whole thing takes a turn for the deliciously sinister—splashes of Rick's own blood.
Only five grand stands between you and a clone army of Motown madmen with a thirst for the flesh of Teena Marie.
