Okay, so I’m a jerk. I admit this with something less than pride, although there are worse things to confess. Besides, I feel that any jerkitude I might exhibit is more than offset by my many other qualities. I mean, isn’t it enough that I am handsome, witty, and brilliant? Did God have to make me humble as well?
No, actually, I’m referring to my rather lengthy and unannounced hiatus from the Blog. (Don’t you love how we always capitalize the word Blog when we refer to the Blog of Stupid and just assume everyone knows what Blog we’re talking about?) I have to give a hat-tip here to my Blogging pardners for keeping the stockade at least reasonably well-defended during my absence. Having checked the stats, I’m pleased to report that we are quickly closing in on 4,000 visits. 3,980, to be exact. Shut up, Word! Sorry, MS Word just told me I wrote a fragment. Stupid Word. Ahem, back to the topic. Yes, 4,000 visits! And that’s unique visits, too, not just page views, a number which happens to be just shy of ten grand. We’re also on our fourth month, with 84 posts under our belts, (this post will be number 85). Why am I telling you this, you might ask? So I can use up valuable post space with worthless information until I can come up with something at least mildly entertaining, that’s why! You gotta problem with that? No? Didn’t think so.
I have many good reasons why I have been lax(ative) in my Stupid duties, but since most of them are too stupid even for this Blog, I won’t bore you with the details, except to say that if anyone has an extra couple thousand lying around, you can make my life a lot easier by wiring the entire amount to a guy named Vinnie. He seems to be operating under the misconception that I owe him a large sum of money. This is ridiculous, of course, and only goes to show how arrogant these crooks can be. True, I did try to sell him a one hundred percent historically accurate Davy Crockett rifle made of solid plastic, but I still think his reaction was a bit severe. I was glad for the rifle’s main component, however, when Vinnie began beating me over the head with the piece of trash…uh…merchandise, and it was all I could do to keep from giving him the rifle outright. Being a crafty businessman, I managed to shield my head from most of the vicious blows and held out for a rock bottom price, a price Vinnie graciously accepted. Yeah, that’s right, he just took it.
Why, then, you might ask, do I need to pay Vinnie all this money if I simply gave him the rifle? It’s like this, ladies and gents. I happened to have several of these authentic rifles in stock (Crockett went through a lot of firepower) and managed to sell most of them before the authorities caught wind of my scam, uh, business operation. I was taken into custody and had no choice but to borrow bail money from good ol’ Vinnie. He kindly agreed to the loan, on the condition that, if I failed to repay the money, he would remove from my body a pound of flesh, to be selected at random approximately ten seconds after the specified time. Funny, but I never thought of Vinnie as much of a Shakespeare addict.
Anyway, so that’s the story. If any of you can help me out, I’d appreciate the assistance, as the deadline is quickly approaching and I have a very low pain threshold and very little spare flesh. Anyone?