I just discovered the true beauty of double meat at Subway. For a dollar more, it transformed my deli hammock into a Viking war hammer, slamming the sides of my gut like Billy Dee strong-arming his womens for Colt 45 money, dragging them by an ankle while their razor-slashed lips tasted the stairs of Valhalla, screaming “You got Lando-ed, motherfucker.”
Last year, I was a “sexual predator” for Halloween. I had the Neal Schon hair, classic rock mustache AKA The Seger AKA The Bus-Stache AKA The Hetfield AKA The Catcher in the Rye…
Kinda like that.
This year, I want to do something a little avant-garde. Like have Kazi go as Huey Lewis and I, alone, will be “The News”. Or maybe a costume within a costume within a costume. Maybe go as Jeremy Irons as Richard Chamberlain as John Larroquette in Madhouse.
Fuck it. I don’t have to impress you.
By the way, if you don’t know who Neal Schon is…
Founder and lead guitarist of JOURNEY.
Born on Tinker Air Force Base in Midwest City, OK.
Played for Santana at the age of 15.
In other words, he’s the dick of Cronus, son of Uranus, father of Zeus. More epic than James Clavell’s Shogun and the lead singer of Alabama playing “Mountain Music” in the eye of a hurricane on a pirate ship with Lemmy’s severed head.
Count the rings on my boner. I’m gettin’ old.
