Thursday Wonderland Adult Hockey Team

My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.

Friday, December 19, 2008

No shows on Thursdays

Ok...So for now there is just going to be text here to have my disappointment known throughout the world. Even in the farthest reaches of the Australian outback, bushmen will know that the five hereafter named gentlemen are not to be trusted in any way, shape or form. They are a the lowest of scum, perhaps on a lower rung than even Miroslav or Saddam.

I ask, did you suddenly get your periods? Was Nick at Night running a Saved by the Bell marathon? By chance, did you realize you were cocksucking fags and find out that Clay Aiken was in town looking for some hot man sweat?

Be prepared. I have time tonight and the latest version of photoshop I have been meaning to play with. I wonder what John F. would look like with a donkey?

The losers:

John F.

Geoff W.

Mike S.

Chris D.