Greetings, true believers,
Well, I'm off to save the world again! My Jet pack is fueled, my ray gun is charged and my super suit is clean. I've packed a fresh bottle of space monkey repellent, the Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks, a Kinky Friedman novel and last months issue of Taboo. Now It's time for a dose of my four favorite food groups; booze, broads, bullets and zombies.
Anyway, I'll be in Atlanta for the next two weeks... and woooohooooo! am I ready for a good old fashion whoring misadventure.
I mean, sure, I saved Christmas and all, (and in good time you'll all hear about it, don't worry), but the last few months have been rough. The supreme leaders had beaten me down and every day was just another kick in the nickels. Then, sometime back in November, a little bit of evil crept its way into my soul.
But, not to worry, Polar Bob came to my rescue on New Year's Day. He grabbed me by the scruff, hauled me down the beach, and dunked me in the mighty Atlantic. Sure, it was cold. And then it hurt... a lot... Wow, did it hurt. Not to mention that my nuts met my tonsils for the first time (and not in the way that I wanted them to meet, mind you).
Anyway, as my skin burned and my muscles froze, the evil clawed its way out of me, leaving me with a sore back and in the doctors office getting an EKG. Don't worry, though. The evil now lies powerless in my freezer, and not only did my back stop hurting and my EKG turn out fine, but I realized something as I laid there on that noisy paper in the doctors office with electrodes glued to my body hair waiting to be pulled of in the most painful way possible. You see, life is like the line on an EKG readout, it's all up and down; it's when the line goes flat that you have to worry.
Anyway, I'm hoping it'll be a good year. Actually, I think it will be. After all, it was sunny and sixty degrees on New Year's Day when Polar Bob threw me in the ocean, so I guess we're off to good start.
I'll be back in a flash, pals. Take care of things at Stately Brianjames manor for me. Right now, I'm going out for some vodka and to kick some Martian ass.
Your pal,
Brianjames!
Well, I'm off to save the world again! My Jet pack is fueled, my ray gun is charged and my super suit is clean. I've packed a fresh bottle of space monkey repellent, the Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks, a Kinky Friedman novel and last months issue of Taboo. Now It's time for a dose of my four favorite food groups; booze, broads, bullets and zombies.
Anyway, I'll be in Atlanta for the next two weeks... and woooohooooo! am I ready for a good old fashion whoring misadventure.
I mean, sure, I saved Christmas and all, (and in good time you'll all hear about it, don't worry), but the last few months have been rough. The supreme leaders had beaten me down and every day was just another kick in the nickels. Then, sometime back in November, a little bit of evil crept its way into my soul.
But, not to worry, Polar Bob came to my rescue on New Year's Day. He grabbed me by the scruff, hauled me down the beach, and dunked me in the mighty Atlantic. Sure, it was cold. And then it hurt... a lot... Wow, did it hurt. Not to mention that my nuts met my tonsils for the first time (and not in the way that I wanted them to meet, mind you).
Anyway, as my skin burned and my muscles froze, the evil clawed its way out of me, leaving me with a sore back and in the doctors office getting an EKG. Don't worry, though. The evil now lies powerless in my freezer, and not only did my back stop hurting and my EKG turn out fine, but I realized something as I laid there on that noisy paper in the doctors office with electrodes glued to my body hair waiting to be pulled of in the most painful way possible. You see, life is like the line on an EKG readout, it's all up and down; it's when the line goes flat that you have to worry.
Anyway, I'm hoping it'll be a good year. Actually, I think it will be. After all, it was sunny and sixty degrees on New Year's Day when Polar Bob threw me in the ocean, so I guess we're off to good start.
I'll be back in a flash, pals. Take care of things at Stately Brianjames manor for me. Right now, I'm going out for some vodka and to kick some Martian ass.
Your pal,
Brianjames!
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
ink:
opps you said bandage.. not bandaid.. nevermind what I said
ink:
your welcome 