call off the search party!!!
i'm still alive and kicking, baby! yeah!
call CSI. tell them i'm not missing anymore. and tell them to fire gary sinise because he's so fucking overrated.
so how's it hanging, fuckers? missed me? no? fuck it. i don't care if you missed me. what matters is i missed you guys like hell. yeah! high five fuckers!
what in satan's lair does that even mean eh? i missed you guys like hell? does it mean i missed you so much i feel so hot, like frigging 8 million degrees celisius or something, while demonic minions prance around cracking whips and shit shouting at me to keep working like i was a coal miner, and i have no water, and i'm so frigging thirsting and hungry i can eat my own tounge, and i'm dressed in shredded jeans and shirt, barefoot with frigging ball and chain shackles and all dirty, while being forced to sing mariah carey's butterfly? is that how missing you guys like hell means? fuck that!
would it have been better if i said i missed you guys like heaven?
or how about i missed you guys like new jersey? if that's the case, then i missed you for more than two months while having a stupid bon jovi song stuck in my head...
whooah!
we’re half way there
whooah!
livin’ on a pray'r!
take my hand and we’ll make it - i swear
whooah!
livin’ on a pray'r...
fuck! i hate bon jovi. i hate the band. i hate the music. i hate the hair. i hate the theatrical antics they do on stage with all those cables and harnesses and fireworks and shit. i hate the guy. and i especially hate the fact that he fucked ally (anorexic) mcbeal. fuck bon jovi.
but yeah, you heard me, i missed you guys. lemme give you all a big hug.
*BIG HUG*
bullshit. i feel such a dork doing that.
***
you're probably wondering where the fuck i've been. yes, i bet you are... not! who gives a shit anyway, eh?
but just in case you're interested, stick around. because if you're a regular here you know there's some warped and fucked up story that'll follow this shit. yeah! high five!
yeah, i'll be explaining it in a three-part mini series i'd like to call, the big reveal. this post right here is part 1 by the way.
***
so, where was i? ah yes. so after typing that dopey post i had last july, i went on a hiatus. fuck, i hate that word. hiatus. it's like i've been to haiti or something.
ooh, haiti.. voodoo... i like that. bullshit. if hiatus were a person, i'd definitely strangle the bitch with my bare hands.
anyway, what really happened was after typing that stupid post, i got judo-chopped at the back of me neck. it knocked me out and i lost consciousness for what i think is about a good 42 minutes. now, how in madonna's ass did know i was unconscious for 42 minutes? simple. in those 42 minutes of being unconscious, i saw nothing but static. yeah, static. why? well, why the fuck not?
so i saw nothing but static like that lousy jodie foster alien flick that bored the shit out of me. when i woke up i saw these reed-thin, weird looking, crazy-eyed aliens.
i knew they were aliens because the moment i opened my eyes they immediately said: "hi, we're reed-thin, weird looking, crazy-eyed aliens. we judo chopped you behind your neck to run some tests on you... and insert something in your ass."
then i went: "fuck you, aliens! you don't scare me! bring it on, you dildo-looking bastards! bring it on!"
then they made me bend over and grab my ankles. actually they didn't force me to bend over, but there was this tasty slice of pizza on the floor and they wouldn't let me have it unless i assume the position.
so there i was, bent over, grabbing my ankles, and scrubbing pizza off the floor with my tounge when i suddenly felt a sharp throb in my ass. they shoved something in. something really big. it felt like an elephant. and it hurt real bad.
after chewing that last slice of pepperoni i shouted, "what the fuck was that???"
"not what, but who...," the motherfuckers said with a grin. actually i didn't see them grin because they don't really have lips. they just communicated to me through telepathy.
"okaaay, smartass! so who the fuck was that???"
"oh, that was drew carey we shoved up your ass."
"who??? drew carey??? drew fucking carey!!!??? now why the hell did you do that?"
"look buddy, we're doing you a favor here," said their leader. i knew he was the leader because he was wearing a tony danza shirt that read: who's the boss? i am, mona!
"we're avid readers of your blog. we access it through a superdoopermega broadestband connection from our planet, zenderpussygalactic9. we just think your blog's not funny enough. so we're helping you out by "incorporating" some drew carey humor in your writing. to do that, we abducted him and decided to have him reside in your ass permanently," said the boss.
then i went: "but why drew? why not jimmy kimel? or the ghost of johnny carson or something. not drew. drew's an unfunny bitch. whose line is it anyway is the most stupid show ever."
then i heard my ass talk: "hey, i resent that."
now that freaked me out. it was drew. he was talking through my ass.
"we won't be having any problems here, right? i'll be good to you, help you out with your comedy and make you famous and shit, and in return i expect you to feed me at least 84 twinkies everyday. do we have an agreement?" drew said.
"now how am i suppose to feed you twinkies? you're in my ass???" i said.
"simple, dipshit. ever seen how elephants eat with their trunks? that's how you'll feed me. you do that or we'll be having problems."
"are you threatening me?"
"oh you bet i am. i'll be blurting out wicked john wayne-inspired improv shit through your ass if you don't follow my instructions."
that was it. i blacked out. totally.
then i woke up, and i was in my bed. everything normal. everything. except for the mountain of twinkie wraps beside me. then i saw my little fireman. it was acting wierd. it unwrapped twinkies and shoved them in my ass. yes, all by himself. i shouted. i shouted my head off.
then i heard my ass talk again: "hey, you're up. i didn't want to wake you because you looked so tired, so i decided to help myself." it was drew. and somehow he found a way to control my wiener to feed him.
i passed out... and was in a coma since july 9.
that's what happened.
***
okay. okay. that's all bullshit. what really happened was....
to be continued...
i'm out.
No comments:
Post a Comment