Holla!

Guess what folks? We have internet at our new flat- at last! Not that I rely on the internet at ALL... no no no, friends. That fantabulous conflaption really makes NO difference to me, but now that I am back ONLINE I can FINALLY keep your asses posted on the wild happenings in my fucking amazing whirlwind of a life! OMG I KNOW!!!!!!!!!

Soooo, what have I been up to? Ohhhh, not much... only miz-nunching on the world's fucking largest PARTY SUB:



PEEP that bitch! Just looking at that photo makes my jaw hurt. That's the sort of thing people eat on a dare, like the 96oz steak John Candy eats in The Great Outdoors. The Old 96er. Just imagine me in a giant checkered plastic tablecloth mumu, getting a running start and then just diving down that sub like a drunk down the saloon bar in an old Western film. Hells yeah.

But party subz aside, for the most part I have just been kicking the fuck back, like a tiny Beetlejuice wearing a nastophone old bathrobe, sitting in a lawn chair on the porch of a miniature whorehouse in an eeerie doll town created by a bespectacled Alec Baldwin:



Fucking A. Nobody can style a suit like old Beetlejuice. I wish I had that much flavor. But no, mine is a quieter, more refined look. Like a fine port, rolled around the mouth and savoured... or the subtle sheen on a new ear horn:



What's that? YOU laugh at me? Mock my delicate grace and retiring nature?

A blight on your phallic crops!

Blerg

Dudes dudes dudes. I know. I am hanging my head in shame right now, I have been so effing remiss.

But much like the Yeti, suprised by Tintin and his companion (Chang, fyi) I feel the dark and warm cave that was once my hideout has been invaded. I cannot slumber peacefully at my desk anymore, while the world goes to shit all around me! Dubz Tee Efff, man???



Yes, tis I. Hairy and angry. And look, this was me before, in the carefree days:



Small, fuzzy, and criminally fucking adorable. I'm the black and white one on the right... oh wait. Bwahahahahahahaaaa. But seriously peeps. I'm losing my allure! The next step on the Road to Perdition:



Just a matter of time, dudes. Soon I'll be dressed in swim trunks, sucking in my beer gut as I cannonball into a pool blindfolded to find a brick while a young Johnny Utah looks on. It's in the fucking cards people.

Tricks

Some clown is trying to play me for a fool. I SWEAR that when my intern made me coffee this morning (for real- it's like having a butler), that shit HAD to be decaf. Don't smurf me like that. It's not pretty:



I NEEDS my java, man. Shit has been getting pretty hectic, and I'm about to start spitting and drooling like OLD YELLER if I don't get a cup of the real business soon.

Anything can happen. I could fly off the handle and really start some shit, or (and this outcome is MUCH more likely), I could finally complete my time machine, travel back to 1970 when I was an ostrich wrangler in New South Wales, and just take my fucking anger out on one of those gangly freaks:



Yeah, that's the way to blow off fucking STEAM, y'all.

Because I Care

Wazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzuuuuuuuuuuup!

Yes folks, tis I. I'm seriously so chipper lately. I am one affirmation away from writing a fucking self-help book here. STOP ME!

Yet, if I did I would be sure to add in the following suggestions- a sure-fire mood booster:

When someone overtakes you on the sidewalk, speed up ever so slightly, so you are walking side by side. Do this for about 20 seconds, it freaks the SHIT out of people and instantly cheers you up. I did it yesterday to a woman on my walk home. It totally messed with her head. THEN I CRUSHED HER WITH MY GIANT HAND!!!!




Mwwwahahahahahahaha! Totally kidding, my giant hand is not so nasty and hairy. My shit is groomed to perfection. I keeps it nice.

SIDEBAR: not to give up my mystical powers or anything, but I found that picture of the giant hand on an amazing model train website. Please peep below the LIGHTNING BOLTS. Talk about playing god. I love it.




What would be great would be a few boxcars on the back of the train with some little hobos on there, and maybe further down the line some little houses with fences with special hobo signs drawn on them, and a pie cooling on a windowsill. God bless America.

But where were we? Oh yeah, my new Zen outlook on life. I don't know, I'm just so THERE, ya know? Like, at ONE with myself, the earth, this hay bale and my laptop:



'I just come out here sometimes just to think- clear my head, take it all in and then just, like, WRITE. It's all about being barefoot... with the HAY, and like, the SKY. It's just so CHILL.'

Whatta prick

Puft

Toooot to toooo! That is a little trumpet that heralds a new day: I did NOT wake up this morning in a cold sweat, dreading the day ahead! Huzzah! How happy go fucking lucky am I, peeps! Amazing! But have no fear. Evil still lurks beneath... par exemple, my brilliant plan for a NEW website featuring atrocious grammar, a sense of irreverence and a flair for the inane. MONEY in the bank, peeps:



i can haz dirty orgy wiv stay-puft marshmallow man?

Right? RIGHT? Original, fun, *quirky*, I mean, WHO could have thought of something so fucking brilllllsters?

What? Oh. Shitfire. Bested at my own game by a bunch of fucking CATS.

This ain't OVAH.

To Whom It May Conrcern

To the fucknuts in the CHEESECLOTH shirt who bumped me out of the way this morning at London Bridge station,

I REALLY hope those few seconds you gained by hip-checking me made the difference in your journey to the DICK WAD convention you MUST have been on your way to. How else can one explain the gauzy shirt, the soft leather moccasins and the sheer disregard you showed for my personal safety? I WAS BY THE EDGE OF A TRAIN PLATFORM, you ass munch! I COULD HAVE DIED. I hope you rot in hell.

All the best,
Me

Bass

Seriously peeps, I am getting so frustrated not having internet at home. I may as well be rubbing (eeew) fucking STICKS together!



Reeaaggghhh? That's right, c'est moi. Back to basics. But fo real, it's taking its toll on me. HOW can I look for photos of bass fishing hiijinks AT WORK?

Oh wait... here's how



Thrillsville, right? But omg, there's totally more! The life of a bass man is rich and varied. Sometimes you get to stand UP!



Crikey! So fucking exciting it nearly made me wet my MOM JEANS



Extra big pockets for storing OINTMENT. Quel turn-on.

Laters!

Yup

Got dressed in the dark again this morning, peeps.



It seems my advanced years are starting to have an effect on my sense of TOUCH. I could have SWORN I was laying my hands on a fine rayon housedress, suitable for all types of domestic pursuits and even some fish-mongering. But when I ventured out into the harsh light of day, I saw mine eyes had been deceived. SIGH.

Bwwaahahaha, just screwing with you, kids! You know I am quite the fashion plate, right?

Right, so this yet another lame ass post. My apologies. We are still sans internet at home and for some fucking CRAZY reason, the people at my work FROWN upon this sort of thing... wtf, right?

So until BT get off their asses I shall be a bit remiss. Toodles.

Wherein I join the cast of Golden Girls

Yes bitches, it's almost B-Day.

God it's all so fucking poignant. I can feel the hot flashes coming. I should buy a lavender mumu, go have my eyes tested at the DMV, eat a steak for dinner at 3pm and then take iced tea out on the lanai with my best gal pals where we all talk about how Miles broke his hip (doing the DIR-TAY!!!!).

Or I could get married...



To Leslie FUCKING Nielsen! What a way to spend the twilight years.

Dude, might as well get me a gun and end it all now. If high-collared lace and Fixodent are the future, I want no part of it.

But seriously folks, I have achieved NONE of what I set out to do by this time in my life:

1)



I am NOT Head Dog in a championship dog sled team- fuck it, I'm not even FIFTH DOG.

2)



I have NEVER questioned Joaquin Phoenix point-blank about WHY the film 'Inventing the Abbotts' was made. Sure, I've danced around the issue for YEARS, but I've just never had the guts to come out and SAY it, ya know? WHY, Joa Joa (pronounced Wha Wha)????

3)



I have STILL not managed to figure out what the FUCK is going on with Hamburger Helper and why it INSISTS on existing. To be honest, I'm not trying all that hard on this one, but I have still failed. And that failure stings. Like a batch of Hamburger Helper on an open wound.

4)


I STILL haven't managed to have this effing butterfly removed from my forehead. At first it was cool, I was that CRAZY hippy with the wild butterfly on my forehead. We laughed together, cried together, did some shrooms, drove across country (fucking scariest ride of my life), panhandled in Haight Ashbury... but now it's like ENOUGH ALREADY, ya know? I've got my OWN shit going on.

Dudes, that's just the beginning. God, I've got so little time. Why am I spending it with you chumps?

Just kidding. Te amo. Now let's go get shitfaced and go on an angry rampage.