Photobucket Enjoy Every Sandwich



Saturday, November 20, 2004


skippystalin: CURES THE ANGUISH OF LOST PETS AND OTHER AILMENTS COMMONLY FOUND IN COUNTRY MUSIC

This is a recent e-mail I recieved.
just lost the best cat I ever met. been gone 30 hours now. 7 month old
neutered male, never left the property. fucking gone.

so been in a fairly lousy state (pun intended) so I stumble on your
site
'cause doing a search for enjoy every sandwich 'cause heard a blurb on
radio
today about Warren Zevon tribute album ... just a bit... thought that's
what
it was called.

anyway this is first time I laughed all day

its tearing up my wife too goddamit and i don't know how to make her
feel
better right now

i dont care if you reply but dont kill yourself unless youre a
manson/henson
type (yeah Jim)

Brad

I'd like to thank Brad for his kind words and to celebrate his taste in music. I went past the point of merely recommending Warren Zevon some time ago. Now I'm thinking of making owning his albums mandatory. And indeed, the Zevon tribute album is called Enjoy Every Sandwich. I look forward to getting it, but most of financial resources are being depleted by crossing intrnational borders for sex with large breasted redheads.

There is, however, a drawback to the Zevon tribute. That would be Adam Sandler. Apparently he performs Warewoves of London on the albumn. At this point, I should let everyone in on a little secret about me. You know how millions of people just fucking adore Sandler? Well, I aint one of them.

I never got that semi-retarded prick. How can so many find a guy "pretending" to be a dribblecase such a scream? Shit, I deal with any number of REAL morons every day. Just yesterday, I spnt nearly 90 minutes tailing a guy with a misshapen head around a record store. His head looked exactly like a peanut. It was chilling.

The reason I tailed him? I was working in record store and this guy had hearing aids that were bigger than his fucking head. That makes me suspcious. That and reatards are HUGE thieves. I've seen it before. They know that everyone assumes that retards are massively retarded, even if they are only mildly so. So they play it up and get away with murder. Some guys get all the fucking luck.

I figure if Sandler is a massive star for his malady, I could at least get the guy I followed yesterday a three picture deal with Paramount. He also has the added benefit of already looking exactly like Beetlejuice.

So fuck Adam Sandler and everthing he stands for.

But I digress. I do that sometimes.

Now, I'd like to console Brad and his family.

Brad, before you get too broken up about the loss of your cat, there's something you should know. Your cat hated you. I can prove it, too. You should consider yourself lucky that the cat left Dodge before it slaughtered you and everything you hold dear.

However, women are known for not seeing the dark side of God's creatures and is understandably broken up. I can remedy this, too.

Since you found my blog and fell in love with me, I can only assume that you showed it to your wife as well. Of course, this means that she is desperately in love with me. She dreams of bearing my children and is, more likely than not, plotting an "accident" for my girlfriend so that she may have me all to herself. You'd be surprised how often this happens, Brad. Really, you would.

This needn't make you feel inadequate, Brad. Use it to your advantage. As you know, women over-react to loss. They're funny like that. She, no doubt, is taking the loss of your sinister housepet much harder than you are. But we all know that women are also very easy to cheer up.

I recommend a romantic dinner in an unexpected place. Like the garage, for example. The simple things often say the most, so I'd go with a simple meal of cold pizza and Thunderbird. Of course, I can't understate the importance of hiding the stroke mags you hide there. While it's quite alright for her to dream of being ravaged by me, she doesn't want to be reminded of your inane desire to take Serenity anally.

Once the meal is completed, the mood should be established. Underess your bride and place her on the hood of that Datsun that hasn't run properly since 1988 and tell her that she'll be living her fantasy tonight. She'll have skippy make love to her. For this, you'll need a clown mask to get the look right. As you show her your love, whisper quotes from my blog to her. By the time you get the part where John Kerry should be beaten on the feet for his insipid "campaign", she should be going off like a fucking rocket.

Your marriage will be stronger for it, and you'll both forget what the cat even looked like.

Anyway, I hope everyone out there keeps the letters coming. I could always use some more "Ask skippy" questions, too. The responses to letters and questions pretty much write themselves and I don't have much time to be overly creative these days.

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