There are seven Wonders of the World. Randy Spear just might have the eighth in his garage.

That darn clock of his has taken a licking and kept on ticking for more than 10 years.

Incredibly, its power source is a single Duracell size C non-rechargable battery that has never been removed, is rusted in place, yet continues to power that timepiece despite all odds.

Typically, those batteries should be good for a year or so of run time. But this one, carrying a “Best if installed by Jan. ’99” inscription, appears to be the alkaline equivalent of Methuselah.

Spears swears it’s legit.

“I’ll take a lie detector test if anyone thinks I’ve screwed with that battery,” the St. Clair resident says.

Spear, a former pro wrestler who purposely got whupped under the name “Mr. Outrageous,” says beer-drinking buddies cajoled him into trumpeting the longevity of his wondrous clock, the faceplate of which can’t be shown in this publication.

That’s because it bears the shellacked charms of a Playboy centerfold nude that, Spear opines, could be the reason the battery has kept huffing these many years.

He thinks some kind of divine intervention has kept the clock on Miss January’s right thigh to continue breathing heavily since the latter part of the last century.

“It’s — how do you say it — possessed,” Spear says.

He thinks the clock’s ceaseless spunk qualifies it for an appearance on “Oprah,” or maybe with David Letterman. Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Besides, the self-deprecating Spear is a piece of work in his own right.

He says he was “too stupid” to graduate high school via traditional merits and got a diploma from St. Clair High in ’74 pretty much because they wanted to shove his butt out of there.

Two divorces and a passel of girlfriends later, he works as an independent trucker, his company bearing his name.

You may have seen his ride: black International with flames on the sides.