Metal Majesty---"2005"
MoTW---"Dead End Drive-In"
I decided to take a week off and let someone who has been hounding me for a long time the honor of writing this week's column. Yep, just another guest columnist on this site. I dunno, I guess you can blame it on my favourite pastime, laziness.
My guest columnist goes by the name of Starchild of the Nubile Ultra Vixens with Snappy Tails and Flowing Hair that Cascades to the Floor like Puddles of Pudding Encased in a Vaseline and Broccoli Base with Just the Slightest Hint of Mahogany that Leaves a Slight Aftertaste of Burnt Cod.
And here's what he/she/it/they submitted:
"So we were sitting around the dinner table and were eating and I asked my dad if I could have ten bucks and he said no that I should get a job because it's tax time and he can't afford to give me ten bucks what with the taxes and bills and other things.
So I told him that wasn't fair and that he always gave my sister money whenever she asked for it and he said that she was better than me and that's why she always got money plus she was only seven and couldn't get a job.
So I told him that was plain old stupid talk and my mom told me to shut up and eat the casserole and mind my own business and I told her she was just plain mean and I didn't want to eat any more of her crummy casserole so my dad told me to go to my room and that I was grounded for smarting off to my mother.
So I threw down my spoon and ran to my room and closed the door and then threw myself on the bed and started to cry because I wanted the ten dollars so I could go out and buy Darth Tater and now I couldn't and it just wasn't fair.
So I waited until everyone went to sleep and then I went downstairs and pooped on the kitchen floor because I knew when they found it they would blame it on the dog and maybe they would give me ten dollars to clean up the poop because I wouldn't mind since it was my poop so I wouldn't be too upset.
So I went back to bed and went to sleep and then woke up in the morning and ran downstairs to see if anyone had noticed the poop but it was gone because my older brother was sitting at the kitchen table eating it and I asked him why and he told me because he liked chocolate and I said it isn't chocolate it's my poop and he said well it sure tastes like chocolate probably because he was stoned and everything tasted like chocolate when he was stoned so I told him that he was a poop eating jerk and that drugs are bad and he should just say no and then I ran back to my room and cried some more because it looked like I wasn't ever going to get Darth Tater."
I don't know what to say.
How about this: I'm trying to get an interview with someone I went on and on about approximately four years ago. I'm not going to make any guarantees that it's going to happen, but if she agrees to it I'll be asking the tough questions that all of you want the answers to. It's my way of saying thanks to each and everyone of you. Really, it is.
COMING NEXT: Those crates finally?
# posted by Bob Senitram @ Sunday, April 17, 2005
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