Craigslist Outage Map

Community Discussion

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Craigslist Issues Reports

Latest outage, problems and issue reports in social media:

• 
  TravelPants (@PantsToTravel) reported 2 minutes ago

  @mattressguy_ In college I bought a bed off craigslist, got the mattress down the stairs but the box spring couldn’t make the turn. So I took a hammer and and broke the runners and bent it around the turn and duct taped them back together once in the room

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  yoni rechtman (@yrechtman) reported 3 minutes ago

  @manishsinhaha @JustJake craigslist still exists! these things can stagnate but it seems like they die extremely slowly and keep being valuable on the way down...

• 
  Ozzmak (@Ozzmak) reported 5 minutes ago

  The Last Chord His name was Elias Kane, and the music found him at eight years old in the back seat of his mother’s rusted Civic. A crackling AM radio played an old Springsteen song, and something inside his chest cracked open like a new guitar case. From that moment, the world outside the music felt dull and out of fifteen he was busking on subway platforms after school, fingers bleeding on steel strings, collecting enough coins to buy his first real guitar—a battered Yamaha acoustic from a **** shop. He named her “Blue” and slept with her in his bed like a sibling. His mother worked double shifts at the hospital; his father had left years earlier. Elias spent every spare dollar on music: new strings, a cheap tuner, then a second-hand Fender Stratocaster that hummed like heaven when he plugged it into a twenty-dollar amp that buzzed louder than it seventeen he dropped out of high school. “I’m going pro,” he told his mother. She cried, but she still slipped him forty dollars from her tip jar every Friday. He used it the way other kids bought sneakers—on pedals, cables, microphones. He learned how to record on an old laptop held together with duct tape. His bedroom became a cave of tangled wires and empty ramen cups.When he turned twenty, he cashed out the small college fund his grandmother had left him. Twelve thousand dollars. He bought a proper interface, condenser mics, acoustic panels, and a second-hand MacBook. He spent nights teaching himself compression, EQ, reverb—anything that might make his songs sound like they belonged on real speakers. He named his bedroom studio “The Vault.”By twenty-three he had four guitars, a keyboard, a drum machine, and a growing collection of debt. He worked construction by day, hauling rebar under brutal sun, then came home bleeding and blistered to record until sunrise. Every paycheck disappeared into better equipment: a new Taylor acoustic, studio monitors that cost more than his rent, a vintage Neve preamp he found on Craigslist. He poured the last of his savings—$8,400—into a proper recording studio session in a real downtown room with a grand piano and thick glass. The engineer was kind but expensive. Elias tracked ten songs over three feverish days. When he left the studio with the masters on a USB drive, he felt like a king who had just been crowned in secret.Promotion came next. He maxed out three credit cards. Facebook ads, Instagram campaigns, TikTok boosts, playlist pitching services, custom merch he never sold. He played two hundred and seventeen shows in two years—coffee shops, dive bars, house parties, even a few opening slots for bigger acts. He slept in his van so often the passenger seat smelled like him and cheap fast food. His mother begged him to come home. He smiled on stage and told crowds, “This is everything.”At twenty-seven, Elias had nothing left but the music and the debt. His mother had passed the year before; the hospital bills had taken the last family money. He sat alone in The Vault—now a storage unit he paid for monthly—surrounded by instruments he could no longer afford to keep insured. The walls were covered in posters of sold-out arenas he would never play.On a rainy Thursday night, he uploaded his best song—“Paper Hearts”—everywhere. Spotify, Apple, Bandcamp, YouTube, TikTok. He set the price at ninety-nine cents on the platforms that allowed it. Then he waited.The first week: 312 streams. Mostly from friends and family. The second week: 87 more. The third: No playlist placements. No viral moment. No sync licensing. No mysterious benefactor. Just silence and the low hum of the city outside.On the last day of the month, desperate and hollow, Elias did something he swore he would never do. He posted on every forum, every musician group, every social account he had:“Will sell my entire catalog—every song I’ve ever written—for one dollar. One single dollar. Just so someone hears it.”He waited twenty-four hours. Zero buyers.He lowered it to free. Still nothing. That night Elias sat on the floor of the storage unit with Blue across his lap, the same guitar he’d bought at fifteen. The strings were old and dead. He didn’t even bother tuning her. He just held her and cried like the eight-year-old boy who had first heard music on a car radio. All the money, all the years, all the blood on the strings, and he couldn’t sell one song for one dollar. The music had taken everything. And still, quietly, under his breath, Elias hummed the chorus of “Paper Hearts” into the dark—because even now, broke and broken, he couldn’t stop. The song refused to leave him, even if the world refused to hear it.

• 
  Leo (@LeoExisting) reported 6 minutes ago

  @lalalvsz @eternallyevii Maybe check your local marketplace (Facebook, Craigslist, etc) I’ve found some cheaper ones that just really need to be wiped down

• 
  ☘️ (@JrueLFG) reported 7 minutes ago

  @BallUpTopBrad They didn’t have a choice, Brad. They’ve shopped JB for years. Never found a good deal and other teams turned him down for their stars. This year they literally posted him on Craigslist and he sat there for weeks and that was the best offer that came back.

• 
  Chris Powers (@fortworthchris) reported 9 minutes ago

  Justin Lopas (@JLopas), Co-founder & COO of @basepowerco, told me about the first battery they ever installed. Six months in, they had financial assumptions, regulatory assumptions and engineering assumptions, and no way to know if any of them held. So to put those assumptions to the test, they installed one battery in Dallas, TX. "We got a friend of my co-founders in the Dallas area, and then we found an electrician on Craigslist. And we're like, okay, let's make it happen." "Nothing worked." Wrong battery, bad install, failed inspection. They pulled it out a few weeks later and started on the second one. In this clip, what one broken battery taught them that six months of assumptions could not.

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  CAPT Shuyan Huang MD (@CptHuang) reported 13 minutes ago

  Caution with this #goatmilk lady - i ain't offering the #refundpolicy when y'all get into trouble. 1) false pretenses 2) the cyberstalking via craiglist 3) told me that she wanted me to sign some papers; the next day, it was probably a DEA staff. [?White male in blue SUV or something?]

• 
  Mary (@supergreak) reported 17 minutes ago

  @Abomination81 That's darling that you think normal people are spending 42000 on a car. If I had 42K it's a down payment on a 🏠. I don't care if my car is a "depreciating asset", I've had it for 5 years and paid $7500 cash to some dude off Craigslist. Gambling w/debt is for suckers.

• 
  Honestly Logical (@CarvelliTi76822) reported 20 minutes ago

  @ronsterd89 Big tree and big chain. Hook chain to bumper and tree and back up to pull the bumper out and make it good again. Same with other metal. This might work unless the coolers are junk then find a doner truck on craigslist located in the boondocks or parts at a boneyard. Cheap fix.

• 
  Dan from Spotted Model: Cars & Tech (@spotted_model) reported 21 minutes ago

  @CajunCybertruck @28delayslater @SpringdaleRobo Shipping is the biggest issue as either Tim or my son will tell you. So find a seat out of a Tesla locally on marketplace or craigslist. The Amazon parts are $60-$80 to make it into a chair with wheels. My son‘s kit is $399 to electrify it. That will enable anything the seat originally had like heating, cooling, lumbar, etc. to be used all the time in the seat. We have a video showing how to install and it takes about an hour. The seat without power is cool. With all of the functions it’s magical. DM me for more info or clarity.

• 
  NekoServentSub (@EverydayRetard) reported 22 minutes ago

  Facebook marketplace is like Craigslist okay I'm just going to solve that problem for all of you now anyone still going to Facebook is a retard. Stay aware not paranoid

• 
  Timothy Vance, CFA | QoEPro (@TimothyVanceATX) reported 26 minutes ago

  @ClintFiore Reminds me of Craigslist adding a nominal fee to jobs/gigs/apartment listings to cut down on spam and fraud.

• 
  Klar Name (@tnhop) reported 28 minutes ago

  @sophiegrenham Try craiglist or donedeal - otherwise wait till winter and burnem down… I had the issue with approx. 2500 books from my parents - they landed at the old paper collector trash … and it hurts like hell

• 
  QtHydro (@HydroFoundry) reported 31 minutes ago

  @bobbyfijan Craigslist had a huge scam problem. Much more difficult with Facebook Marketplace.

• 
  Michael Fischer (@Holden_Rye_) reported 32 minutes ago

  I owned $4B in Bitcoin. Imagine its 2009 and you’re in your own little nerdy world when you learn about this thing called digital money. It was so new it sounded like sci-fi. Something that would probably never actually go anywhere. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to understand the technology and the idea behind it. This thing called blockchain. What ******** is that? A ledger? How boring. But wait… Decentralized? The hacker in you raises an eyebrow. “Do tell me more about this Bitcoin.” It was so new that it barely had value, but you were nerdy enough to figure out how and where to get it. Guess where I bought some of my first Bitcoin? From a guy I met at a park in Virginia Beach. He had it listed on Craigslist. I bought 16,000 BTC for $25 because he wanted the cash to buy a quarter sack of ****. And the transaction went down exactly how you’d imagine a nerdy digital drug deal in 2009. Two nerds. One laptop. $25 cash. A handshake in a park. Both wearing hoodies. Both hackers. Except the thing being traded wasn’t illegal. It was Bitcoin. That was Bitcoin back then. Over the following months, I bought and traded for more. Not everything was a cash sale. Sometimes it was PC parts or whatever else somebody wanted. From 2009 through 2010, I owned roughly 60,000 Bitcoin in total. At today’s prices, that would be around $4 billion. Yes. $4,000,000,000. What did it cost me back then? Probably a few grand total. That’s how early this was. We weren’t sitting around calculating what Bitcoin would be worth 17 years later. We were nerds playing with a new technology most of the world didn’t even know existed. And when we tried telling people in traditional finance about it? They laughed at us. Bitcoiners were treated like criminals, drug dealers, hackers and idiots for using some fake internet money instead of fiat. I remember a stockbroker telling me in 2017 that if his firm knew he owned Bitcoin, he could lose his job. Think about that now. Bitcoin is known for its “cycles.” People talk about Bitcoin season and alt season like these concepts came with an instruction manual. They didn’t. People had to watch the market. We had to watch money move from Bitcoin into other coins. Watch what happened around halvings. Watch bubbles form and collapse. Watch retail disappear and eventually come back. Then people compared notes, shared what they saw and slowly mapped the behavior. I was one of those people. Not some guru. Not some billionaire Bitcoin mastermind. There really weren’t any. I was one of many nerds playing around with nerd money and trying to understand what the hell we had found. We had no clue that things we were learning would eventually be studied and used by Wall Street. Larry Fink talks about Bitcoin now. There are Bitcoin ETFs. Institutions own it. Governments debate it. Millions of people around the world know what Bitcoin is. Really think about that. It’s ******* insane to see what Bitcoin became from where I first saw it. We were called criminals. Now they want it. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have tears rolling down my face typing this. Because we built this **** brick by brick. Developers. Miners. Cypherpunks. Hackers. Early users. Weirdos buying Bitcoin on Craigslist. People running nodes from their houses. People teaching each other how the damn thing worked. Nobody gave us permission. Nobody could have stopped us anyway. And now our voices can sometimes feel tiny compared with the institutions that have arrived. But that’s the beautiful part. Bitcoin was designed for exactly this problem. No matter how much money enters Bitcoin, money alone doesn’t get to rewrite the rules. That is what decentralization was supposed to protect. Bitcoin went from nerd money traded in parks for **** and computer parts to an asset sitting on Wall Street. And somehow, underneath all of it, blocks keep coming. To my fellow hackers, the real ones, good job 🫡