Thursday, August 5, 2010

One Helluva Hiatus

Whew!  Let me tell you about the sabbatical I just now got back from!  You wouldn’t believe it!  I don’t know if you remember, but, I needed a break last June.  Just a few days off.  This blog, it don’t write itself.  And it’s not as if one of you appreciate the effort that I put into it.  Have one of you ever said “thanks”?  Thanks for all your hard work?  Thanks for running me back and forth to the mall?  Thanks for washing our clothes?  And all the food we stuff our faces with?  Have you ever?   EVER?!?!?
 
But, hey, I digress…
 
So my plan was for a short break, right?  Well, the next thing I know I’m in Japan, high up in the Himalayans, studying to become a Buddhist monk.  It was sorta like that movie with Brad Pitt.  No not 12 Monkeys.  Seven, it was Seven.   I was there half a year or so…totally mastering their martial art ways, when I fell for the master Buddhist monk’s middle daughter.  Oh, she couldn’t stand me, but I was totally into her.  I followed her all over.  That is until she got the restraining order.  Then I followed her all over from more than 150 ft away.

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i knew it had something to do with the number seven
 
One day, while I was shopping at the Himalayan Wal-mart, comparing the prices on long distance night vision goggles, a fan from my Dissertation Station days recognized me.  We started rapping about how cool I was, and how great of an all around individual I truly am.  It was embarrassing, really.  But, who am I to stop someone when they’re gushing about me?  He offered to buy me a drink, which I guess in hindsight, wasn’t a really good idea.  Considering we we’re standing in the middle of Wal-mart.

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I bet you can see into the future with those fuckers

On the way to this cat’s local pub (that’s a Bar for all my American readers out there), a silver mini van rolled up.  That’s when I thought…”Shit!  The kids found me!”  But, I breathed a sigh of relief cause I remembered not one of them is old enough to drive.  Let alone get the van into Japan.  Then I thought…”Shit!  I forgot to tell the kids I was leaving!”.  That’s when the doors rolled open and a bunch of representatives from the Tattooed Granny Bikini Squad (TGBS) hauled me, viciously, into the van like I was the last man on Earth.

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I ain’t saying it was her, but they all look like her...
 
It was horrible!  The grannies…they tore at my clothes.  Put their old granny hands on my young sweet flesh.  The agony of it all.  I’m still suffering from PTS!  But, before those zombified, tattooed grannies could sink their teeth into me, the van came to a jolting halt!  The grannies bounced around inside the van like a lead pipe on a baby seal.  Suddenly, the van door was torn away.  The darkness was filled with bright, cleansing sunlight.  And you’ll never guess who walked into view holding the torn away van door.  It was…awwww…who am I fukin?  You wouldn’t believe me anyway.

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you thought it was gonna be Superman, didn’t you?
 
Wanna know the real reason it’s taking me so long to get back in the saddle? 
 
Hemorrhoids.

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Believe you me, he won't be happy long once he finds out what a hemorrhoid really is. Or what that quack is gonna do to him.
C'mon! You know you wanna read more...