Though the mailman brought this, it does not appear to be either a bill or an advertisement. There are words scrawled all over it, and there is a cryptic inscription at the bottom: JOB. It’s as if someone took an email and printed it, by hand, on a piece of paper, and then shipped that piece of paper to me.
NOW IT CAN BE TOLD
Things have been busy at Casa Godsbody of late. Part of that busyness has involved the creation of a boozyata, which is a pinata filled with plastic single servings of booze, the sort you might find on an airplane beverage cart. Video of the boozyata’s destruction is still forthcoming. But here it is prior to hanging.
Why yes…
Exchange
Me: “If I get any fatter, I’m going to have to change my hip-hop name from The Pale Third Rail to The Spherical Miracle.”
The Wife: “Put that on The Korrektiv. It will make people smile.”
Middle aged white dude writes crappy pop chorus for young female singer
Don’t call me a ho/ ‘Cuz what I got you can’t afford/I ain’t movin’ on your money/And your braggin’s got me bored/You gotta chain me to your heart/Before you tie me to the bed/If you’re looking for a bitch/Better get a dog instead















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