Greetings True Belivers!
So, the other day while out mowing the lawn or cutting the grass (I forget which) I got a call from our good friend Captain Fatman. Waaahoooooo! Time for another good old fashion whoring misadventure! And this time it gets to be a buddy picture. Just what I could use (as you can tell from the recent lack of rambling pointless emails). Good times and noodle salad! Was my ray gun charged? Was my jet pack fueled? Was my super suit clean (damn guacamole!) And what could the danger be? Mole people? Born again robots? Or maybe the free buffet was back at Cheerleaders.
But what my pal Captain Fatman wanted was much worse than any of those things. I mean, had it been mole people, well, them you just hit in the eyes with a flash light then bash over head with a shovel. Taking out born again robots is a breeze; all you need is a bowling ball, some chicken wire and a tube of mascara. As for the buffet at a strip club! No matter how drunk you get, I think we all have enough sense not to eat there. Especially if its free... well, unless they have chicken strips, because then you are dealing with comedic value (think about it, how many of us have eaten gross stuff just to be funny... anyone? oh, me neither then.) Anyway, what was this horrific misadventure that Captain Fatman had called for... apparently he needed help picking up and installing a door.
Now, mind you, my daily routine usually consists of attending exorcisms, battling space monkeys, fighting zombies and going to strip clubs. But this whole installing a door... I knew right away this wasnt going to be easy. We hopped in the worlds coolest El Camino, Rascal James, and headed to Home Depot where you can not only find building supplies but some strangely hot girls. Once at the Depot, the door was easy enough to find, pay for, load up and take home. First part of the mission accomplished. Wrong! Someone, not me, measured wrong and we wound up with the wrong size door. So we had to return the door to Home Depot. Normally this would be frustrating, but the weather was nice and I was able to spend the day cruising in Rascal James and listening to Johnny Cash with Captain Fatman. We were cool like two little Fonzis, legends in our minds. Im surprised women werent throwing themselves at us (by surprised I mean disappointed and disillusioned). Back at the Depot we had no problem exchanging the door for the correct size and found that it was easy enough to install. We didnt even have that many parts left over (sometimes I wonder how it is that a guy who cant use a power drill can manage to save the world.) This is a pretty pointless email, but it happened so I thought I would tell you all about. Oh, yeah we were also attacked by a Disco Demon, helped a lady load paneling into her truck and stopped an invasion of Gutter Monsters* on the way to return the door at Home Depot, but the important thing is that I got the right size door.
Your Pal, Brianjames!
*For those of you not familiar with the menace of Gutter Monsters; Gutter Monsters live in the Sewers where they have portals to entrances under your bed. They are fearsome fighters and smell really bad. Their presence is usually made known by their constant chanting of Gut-ter Mon-ster; which is why they are called Gutter Monsters and not Sewer Monsters. I met my first Gutter Monster when I was about eight years old, at that time I also learned of Slug Women, Blood Men and Space Potatoes which are from Mars but Mars Potatoes doesn't have the same ring to it as Space Potatoes.
So, the other day while out mowing the lawn or cutting the grass (I forget which) I got a call from our good friend Captain Fatman. Waaahoooooo! Time for another good old fashion whoring misadventure! And this time it gets to be a buddy picture. Just what I could use (as you can tell from the recent lack of rambling pointless emails). Good times and noodle salad! Was my ray gun charged? Was my jet pack fueled? Was my super suit clean (damn guacamole!) And what could the danger be? Mole people? Born again robots? Or maybe the free buffet was back at Cheerleaders.
But what my pal Captain Fatman wanted was much worse than any of those things. I mean, had it been mole people, well, them you just hit in the eyes with a flash light then bash over head with a shovel. Taking out born again robots is a breeze; all you need is a bowling ball, some chicken wire and a tube of mascara. As for the buffet at a strip club! No matter how drunk you get, I think we all have enough sense not to eat there. Especially if its free... well, unless they have chicken strips, because then you are dealing with comedic value (think about it, how many of us have eaten gross stuff just to be funny... anyone? oh, me neither then.) Anyway, what was this horrific misadventure that Captain Fatman had called for... apparently he needed help picking up and installing a door.
Now, mind you, my daily routine usually consists of attending exorcisms, battling space monkeys, fighting zombies and going to strip clubs. But this whole installing a door... I knew right away this wasnt going to be easy. We hopped in the worlds coolest El Camino, Rascal James, and headed to Home Depot where you can not only find building supplies but some strangely hot girls. Once at the Depot, the door was easy enough to find, pay for, load up and take home. First part of the mission accomplished. Wrong! Someone, not me, measured wrong and we wound up with the wrong size door. So we had to return the door to Home Depot. Normally this would be frustrating, but the weather was nice and I was able to spend the day cruising in Rascal James and listening to Johnny Cash with Captain Fatman. We were cool like two little Fonzis, legends in our minds. Im surprised women werent throwing themselves at us (by surprised I mean disappointed and disillusioned). Back at the Depot we had no problem exchanging the door for the correct size and found that it was easy enough to install. We didnt even have that many parts left over (sometimes I wonder how it is that a guy who cant use a power drill can manage to save the world.) This is a pretty pointless email, but it happened so I thought I would tell you all about. Oh, yeah we were also attacked by a Disco Demon, helped a lady load paneling into her truck and stopped an invasion of Gutter Monsters* on the way to return the door at Home Depot, but the important thing is that I got the right size door.
Your Pal, Brianjames!
*For those of you not familiar with the menace of Gutter Monsters; Gutter Monsters live in the Sewers where they have portals to entrances under your bed. They are fearsome fighters and smell really bad. Their presence is usually made known by their constant chanting of Gut-ter Mon-ster; which is why they are called Gutter Monsters and not Sewer Monsters. I met my first Gutter Monster when I was about eight years old, at that time I also learned of Slug Women, Blood Men and Space Potatoes which are from Mars but Mars Potatoes doesn't have the same ring to it as Space Potatoes.