Has it come to this?

Am I really resorting to images of kooky monkeys? Am I really that close to scraping the bottom of the barrel?



Clearly I am. It's just the fact that the two are just holding onto each other for dear life. It touches my black, black heart in a way not man other things do... like this frankly very frightening image of a *POSSIBLY* transsexual Ray Liotta impersonator, cuddling up to his/her next victim.



It's like Night of the fucking Hunter here, people. Just imagine old sweet hymns being sung in the deep, booming voice of the man who killed your momma... riding a weary nag, searching the river for you and your idiot sister, as you drift slowly downstream, dreaming of sweet escape...

too much?

Did I go a bit bonkers there?

Thought so. Sorry. Got those Sunday Blues again. I feel like I am coming slowly unhinged, like a hideously be-wigged Joe Pesci in JFK.

That said, it does not take much for Pesci to go off the deep end. Hmm, he gets angry easily, curses like a sailor and seems to be impossible to kill... okay, so the fact that Joe Pesci and I are THE SAME PERSON has somehow managed to escape me for YEARS! Holy shit, people. This changes everything. Instead of docilely going about my daily routine, mild-mannered and subdued, I just need to crack some fucking skullz, y'all! THAT and I need a steady supply of toothpicks with which to punctuate my curse-peppered soliloquies. DONE.

And I need to seriously rethink my stance on leather coats (hate them). Pesci basically lives in them. Friends, I shall don this second skin and live the rest of my days in the spirit of poorly-bottled rage and ready-to-fucking-explode-hernia-inducing menace. It might change the way some of you, um, FEEL about hanging out with me. But those of you who know what's fucking good for you won't say a fucking word.

After all, if you and your ugly-as-sin friend are ever in the deep south visiting colleges and happen to be falsely accused of the murder of a gas station owner, I might just come and bail your asses out, defend you in court using HIGHLY irregular techniques, all the while creating the most hilariously over the top fish-out-of-water brouhaha that small Alabama town has ever seen. Stick with me, kids.