A Pox Of AIDs On Whoever Gave Me This Cold

Goddamn people these days. They don't have enough sense to stay home when they're sick, and as a result I now have a tremendous bitch of a head cold. It's one of those progressive numbers too, steadily getting worse for three straight days. Hell, it was already bad enough yesterday that I couldn't get it up for my usual Saturday night "date." You can imagine my embarrassment.

Anyway, I guess I'll pay a visit to Doc Stinebrau if I don't see signs of improvement by tomorrow morning. That or drill a hole in one of my ears. One way or another, I'm getting sinus relief.

Comic Books Are Strictly For Children & Retards

Yeah, so I just heard on the news that today is -- get this -- "Free Comic Book Day." Meaning, if you can bring yourself to walk into a comic book store, you'll get some free comics. Which appeals to me just as much as "Free Herpes Day," "Free Kick In The 'Nads Day," etc.

Why? Because I'm no longer six-years-old. Sorry, but 32 pages of badly drawn, badly developed characters aren't enough to captivate me as an adult. Especially when the vast majority of said characters are male underwear fetishists beating the crap out of each other. Yeah, yeah, I know all about you clinically depressed bastards churning out so-called comics about your own miserable little lifes and other "real world" scenarios. But that's like offering caviar-and-shit-flavored bubble gum as an alternative to grape.

In other words, there's no shame in creating entertainment for children. There is, however, great shame in hijacking a form of entertainment designed for children and using it to make faux literature for slacker adults who should be doing better things with their time. That's not my opinion, that's fact.

So, I heartily encourage all the kids in the audience to run down to their local comic book dealer and get some free Archies or what have you. But if you're a grown-up with plans on taking part in the festivities, do yourself and society a favor and spend the day reading a real book instead. Might I recommend Nancy Manahan & Rosemary Curb's Lesbian Nuns: Breaking Silence? Unlike you, it's a proven winner.

Bingo

Holy shit. My scratch-off ticket -- it's a winner. For a cool 10 grand no less. The ironic thing is I'm already worth millions, so this means nothing to me.

I bet a lot of you readers could really use this money, huh? You know, to pay bills, buy a car, put a down payment on a house. Whatever it is poor people do with large sums of found cash. Which is why it's lucky to have been won by me. 'Cause now it gets to be spent at the local Larry Flynt's Hustler Club, instead of being put to a "good" (read: boring) use.

Anyhow, see you suckers later. Post-lap dances later, that is.

That's A Lot Of Blood

And it's all over my bedroom. To make matters worse? I have no idea where it came from.

So, it looks like I have some work to do. Breathe a word of this to the cops and I swear you're next.

I'll Wipe My Own Ass, Thank You

"...and I'd like it 'Super Sized,' please."

Silence from the PA box. And then: "Uh, sir? We don't offer the Super Size anymore."

"What do you mean, you don't offer the Super Size? Is this McDonald's or not?"

The question was rhetorical. I knew for a fact I was at McDonald's, because I'd driven there in my Hummer for lunch. And I'm not some pill-popping dopehead given to forgetting where he is. Clearly, the same could not be said for the dude working the drive-through this afternoon.

"Yeah, you're at McDonald's," he said. "But like I said, we don't have a Super Size anymore. Just a Large."

"A 'Large?' But I want a Super Size. What happened to the Super Size?"

"We discontinued it. Due to, uh, health concerns."

"Health concerns? Again, is this McDonald's or not?"

"Yeah, man. Like I already said, this is McDonald's. But..."

"But nothing! If I wanted to discuss health concerns, I'd see a doctor. Which I do. Frequently. But when I come to McDonald's, I want a lot of greasy food, served up piping hot, with a gallon of Coke to wash it down. Do I make myself clear?"

"Uh, yeah. But like I said..."

"Look -- the customer is always right, goddammit! And I am the goddamn customer, and I want a goddamn Super Size with my order, and I'm filthy goddamn rich, so gimme what I goddamn want! Now!!!"

Squeaky wheel greased, I was soon in possession of enough food to feed an entire Ethiopian village. Not that it did; I was quite hungry, and finished every bite.