Friday, September 11, 2009

Inside the Dream Factory



It's Friday night, slags. I love you. I'm done with the grind for the night and am gonna drink up this wine and give you a glimpse into my dream factory. And by dream factory, I totally don't mean what you think I mean. I never do, do I? You are used to this. Here's where I conceive all my greatest ideas - flanked by cats at my dining room table, wine and phone handy.



Also, I was meaning to tell ya'll, I recently woke up in a bathtub full of ice, with a note pinned to my clothes that my kidneys had been removed and I should contact a medical professional immediately. That'll teach me to get fucked up in Mexico again. And those damn chupacabras! They're everywhere. Here's the photo evidence to prove it. The whole kidney thing, not the chupacabras, that is.



So you see why this sojourn into this bottle of pino noir is so well deserved. Working, goat sucking beasts, and missing internal organs. You'd be hard pressed yourself to not want to do the same.



9 comments:

  1. jervaise brooke hamsterSeptember 11, 2009 at 11:10 PM

    That room looks incredibly cosy.

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  2. I think I dated a chupacabra once. And as far as your kidneys, I'm sorry. Poor thing. BUT... you gotta take into consideration how much kidneys go for on the black market. And since this is Mexico we're talkin' about, chances are your missing internal organs fed some kidney thief's wife and thirteen children for an entire year.

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  3. It wouldn't surprise me, Aaron, I assumed your affinity for wild cryptozoological beasts. Yeah, well, it just means I can get drunk quicker, now that I'm missing vital organs. It'll be cheaper at any rate.

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  4. We will have your organs back to you once the wit has been extracted and replicated successfully so that our legion of space-age superbloggers can be complete.

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  5. Ah, so my kidneys are being used in the interest of SCIENCE?! I'm cool with that.

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  6. When I lost my kidneys, I jury-rigged a dialysis machine out of a Mtn Dew 2-ltr bottle, rubber bands, a thumb tack, a stress ball, and some drinking straws. I'm done with it, but it's still lying around some place. Want me to send it to you?

    Cool artwork, tho.

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  7. If I was really hardcore, which I'm not, it's all a front, I would have gotten those scars branded in. But instead, I opted to have them tattooed instead. And it's cool, because every time someone gets to them in my tattoo guy's book of tattoo pics, they say, eewwww, gross. So mission accomplished, I guess. Even thought that wasn't really my mission. But I guess it kinda was, cos I like grossin' folks out.

    and yes, Astro, send me your jerry-rigged mt. dew bottle apparatus. I need me some cheap dialysis.

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  8. Nice to talk to you about crack, wierd movies, and hot innappropriate dudes. Slip by more often...you totally don't smell like someone missing their kidneys. Mattox

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