Monday, May 08, 2006

Labotomies are funnish....mmm...ugh...ummm...argh...ahhh

To say that I'm not perfect is probably the biggest understatement in the history of human communication. So what is my problem?

Maybe I do not have enough iron in my diet? Maybe I should try drinking more water. Get my act together. Have I considered a transplant? Braces? Implants? Reduction? A wig? How about a comb-over? I am glad you're not me, that is all I have to say. Nope, you wouldn't want to be in my shoes. Speaking of shoes, what exactly are those things on my feet? Are they corrective?

Let us be honest; I need a lot of work. I am not talking about a little fine tuning, I am talking about a major overhaul top to bottom. I am talking about putting my big butt in dry dock, scraping my hull, and rebuilding me from rudder to stern. Let us have crews working around the clock, Monday through Friday, and Saturdays until noon. Union workers will certainly cost more but I need professionals on this job; not a bunch of unskilled scabs who will just make things worse- if that is even possible. I am not sure that is even possible. My imagination just is not good enough to imagine a worse me. Maybe somebody else can try perhaps a science fiction writer. Look at me, and then look at you. I am not going to say "If I did it so can you," but you are going to have to stop trying at least. I will not say my condition is hopeless, but Hope is not exactly my closest friend these days, is she? In my case, I think someone left Hope out in the alley with a fractured skull. Someone call 911. Is there a doctor in the house? A priest? Oh, just get me a shovel; I will take care of it. It is time to roll up my sleeves and just get started. They say that there is no time like the present, but in my case I would say a better time would have been about 20 years ago when I really started going downhill. What happened to me? I was such a cute kid.

In light of all of this self-deprecation comes an obvious statement. I am moving to Boston. I leave August 1st, maybe sooner. I am transferring up there because of work and sanity and, mainly, to get my adult act together before it is too late and I become a great, yet uninteresting statistic. I will let you decide which one, I know which one already and there is no reason to say it aloud. So, over the next few weeks, ladies, if you have not slept with me and want to, this could be your last chance. I am not saying anything, but I am just bringing that up.

And don't try to talk me out of it. I am going and am actually quite excited.

*portions of the above are borrowed from another article.


Anonymous said...

Let's have a look under the hood... AGHH! Is that a dead racoon? I didn't know algae could grow inside a person. We are going to need a sandblaster to fix this one up, or at least take of the first layer or crud. Don't worry, the salt they spread on the roads in Beantown to melt the ice and snow should wear off that layer.

Best of luck. You will be missed. And now I won't give you going-away-sex.

By the way, can I have Larry Johnson and Shawn Alexander? Had to ask...

Anonymous said...

Dude, did you need to borrow a gun to blow your brains out. That looked like scenario #32 in the suicide hotline traning manual. Who knows, mabey Boston chicks dig getting fucked in the ass while being puched in the kidneys and swallowing soiled toilet water. It could be sexual windfall for you. See you sunday.

Anonymous said...


I can't believe you are pulling up stakes and heading to a hockey haven (what the Orlando pseudo hockey team no longer cutting it).

It will be a great change for you, although I'll be sorry to see you go. I'll see if we can get Jesse to make you a photo album from his collection so you can remember the fun times (you may or may not have witnessed).

I'll talk to you soon. and no, Dave can't have any of your players.


Samm Chazz said...

I am not moving to Antarctica, so no you can;t have any of my players. I still intend on dominating this year.