Maybe he's left for greener pastures. Maybe he's got some hot party info that will blow yer mind from all the residue that this week left stuck all over the insides of yer head like resin. Maybe he's on a intergalactic cruise that'll have cyber-ninja's, four-breasted alien broads, and rug devouring space-hamsters. Maybe he's decided to take up a nice villa in the South of France - yaknow, something with a waterwheel and an old crotchety guy who knows his grapes, and his vines. Maybe he's just kickin' back with a couple of tall cold ones, and figgers the world might be able to do without his particular brand of fun for tonite. Maybe he's dealing with Leprechauns and trying to get them to help the sitch-ee-ation in Iraq.
Maybee he's hangin' at your local tavern wonderin' where you're at. Maybe he's about to catch some mass-transportation and turn the gjoddang vehicle into a party-bus. Maybe he's milking goats, and trying to make cheese. Maybe he's got some plans for the upper levels of the talles building in the world. Maybe there's a race somewhere with high stakes on the line. Maybe he's in a duel to the death with some stupid fuck who doesn't know what's wjhat.
Maybe it's the kind of question a person shouldn't ask themselves. Maybe it's the kind of question that will never be answered correctly until you go out and try and find that most noble of all weekdays, and ask him yourself.
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