First Stop

Glad to be out of there, I haven't been so bored since I broke both legs and had to watch re-runs of "Who's the Boss" for two months. Do you have any idea what it's like to become intimately familiar with Tony Danza?

Think "Sylvester Stallone," but less talented. And gay.

But I wouldn't be the man I am today if I let little shit get me down. Me and my brother Brad both know that there's only one way to get a party started right, and that's with a mothafuckin' deuce-deuce AKA 40 oz AKA tall boy of love. Keeping that in mind, I got the taxi to wait while I went into the gas station and grabbed myself a little pre-gaming action.

Debited, motherbitches

Yeah, I guess I forgot to say that I borrowed a little money from the people who owned that house. I figure it's only fair that they paid the celeb fee for me staying there.

Ho ho ho, I got a fat sack.

The cashier asked to see my ID, so I had to break it down for her. First, I was like, "Don't you know who I am?" and then when she affirmed in the negative, I had to tell her that people who're buying underage by Smirnoff or Bud Light. Only alcoholics drink King Cobra. Still, I don't think she would have gone through with it had this dude not vouched for me. At first I thought maybe he was a homeless guy, but it turns out he has a blog, too. I went ahead and linked to him, not in a gay way or anything though.

So, I'm sitting there in the back of the taxi chugging this King Cobra and missing the old days, back when Billy D Williams and I used to hang out. That was one crazy dude. He and I used to cruise around in his limo and he'd scream "Black Jedi power!" at old white people and throw his Colt 45 cans at them. Then we'd usually drop by a club, pick up some chick that weighed the same as a coke machine, and double-team her in a motel.

Anyway, Colt 45 got wind of all that and ended up hiring us as their spokespeople:

Colt 45 and bad sweaters. Welcome to the 80's.

The paychecks were rolling in, and we were just going crazy - partying all night, trashing motels, doing more ugly bitches, and Colt loved it, but one day while I was wasted on corn syrup and Valium, I had sex with the C.E.O.'s horse, then his wife.

Next thing I know, I'm airbrushed out of the commercials, and this is all that remains:

It's ok, though: After I got fired I went back and had sex with his daughter, too. Then his horse again.