Guess Who's Back

in da mutha fuckin' house wit a phat dick fo yo mutha fuckin' mouth? That's right, it's me, Q. Not sure what I'm going to write about today, as I seem to have missplaced the vast majority of my.....ummm....thinking thingie since that trip back home, but isn't that part of the excitement? I mean, isn't it? Well, Christ's Ankle Bracelet, isn't it?!?!?!??! Why won't you answer me?!?!?!?!?!?

Ahem......now that we got that outta the way, howz about a story? Would you like that, wee Fjordlings? Well, would you? Hey, do you want a story or not? I mean, Jesus's Letterman's Jacket, don't you want a fucking story?!?!?!?!??! Well, here's one anyway. In spite of your indignance.......

A while back, I went to a Slayer concert with a friend of mine. Now, personally, I could ulitmately give a shit about Slayer, but my friend ( www.mike.essl.com ) is TOTALLY into them and I thought it'd be sort of funny, so I was like, "Fuck it, yeah I'll go." So, we get to the show and it was fucking mayhem, as you can probably imagine. So much mayhem that it made me realize that people like Slayer almost as much as I like a good ham sandwich......almost. Anyway, after a few lousy opening bands the moment practically everyone was waiting for finally happens-----SLAYER TAKES THE STAGE! They start playing and the fucking place erupts, much like my kitchen when there's a solid ham sandwich around. My friend is literally owning the pit and I'm sorta pinned back by the soundboard trying not to get sucked into the massive people whirlpool spinning all around me. Anyway, after a few songs, it's time for everybody's favorite part of the night: Between Song Banter. So, the singer goes up to the mic, after leveling the crowd with some song that was probably about puppy eating, or some such, and he's like, such a normal dude, it's fucking ridiculous to me. Case in point:
Singer: "NEW YORK CITY! Hope everybody remembered to wear a jacket tonight! It's coooooooold outside! Also, I couldn't help but notice it's snowin' out there, you people make sure you drive real safe and slow on your way home! Remember, NEW YORK CITY, it's not a race out there! Anyway, this next song is called, "I Popped Out Your Mother's Eyes, Skull Fucked Her and Came All Over Her Brain!" Sing along!!"
They bust into song and the fucking crowd goes nuts. I'm just standing there like, "Am I the only one who heard this guy? Is nobody else disenchanted by that? Where's the evil?!?!? I mean, all of the sudden, I feel like this is a guy I could fucking count on if shit hit the fan in my life! Plus, he's no bigger than my thumbnail!" Little did I know, that it was about to get worse. It's right before the last song of the night, and by this point, I'm convinced that the singer has a confessional booth on the tour bus. He then busts out this:
SINGER: NEW YORK CITY, I made some lemon bars. Four lemon bars for every ticket sold tonight! That means everyone gets four. Take some home with you. I don't want any of you guys going home from a Slayer show hungry, NEW YORK! It's my own recipe. My grandmother thinks they're too tart, but that's just her way. SHE'S CROTCHETY, NEW YORK CITY!!!! Anyway, enjoy.....Now, this next song I wrote while I was on retreat with my daughter's Girl Scout Troupe. It's called, "I Beat an Amputee to Death With His Own Prosthetic While I Performed Oral Sex On Your Baby!" Sing it, cuz you know it!!!"

Dumbfounding.....but those lemon bars were delicious.........Not "Good Ham Sandwich" delicious, but definitely "I Can't Believe How Good That Slayer Guys' Lemon Bar Recipe Is" delicious.........