I'm an idea man. My uncle Oscar invented that thing where they put mayonnaise and peanut butter in the same jar, so he pays me to smoke pot and make smug remarks during Seagal movies. I haven't had the heart to tell him that I'm a Van Damme man myself but he likes it and his happiness = my happiness. Like this one time, he came into my room to wake me up and let me know about my cousin Blanche dying and I rolled over with a rye chip stuck to my abdomen. So i plucked the rye chip off of myself and ate it - then I turned up "...got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one" and said something about being a "j. hova's witness." We laughed and laughed, then I tried to keep the fun going with a fart but accidentally sprayed piping hot sewage all over the bedspread. This made Oscar throw up all over the floor so I paid some mexican chap to lick it up but he couldn't finish it all so I paid some mexican lady to clean it up.
Plus, I planned the elaborate murder of a young Colorado beauty queen but right before I'd decided to go through with it my plans had disappeared and I'd been doing too much jenkum to remember what they were. I know I was gonna bring a zucchini or a gourd or something and I was gonna wear a cocksock and a Frankenstein mask but the rest is a bit of a blur...
