It’s 4AM and we just got home. Potrick Weedartz didn’t come to Cinco de Mayo. He stayed home to look at some West African mud architecture. There’s a TV show on right now about fake breasts. Women are doing all these weird things with their fake breasts that you can’t do with normal breasts.
At the bar I put a dollar in the video lottery terminal and magically turned it into seven bucks. I was ridiculed for choosing to play a game called “The Leopard’s Spots.” But I chose this game deliberately because I believe it teaches an important lesson about human nature. This lesson may be summed up in the form of a proverb:
The Leopard Does Not Change Its Spots.
Remember this when you’re dealing with people, trying to figure out their motives. The leopard does not change its spots. Hold this truth close to your heart.
The woman at the machine beside us put in I don’t know how much and cashed out with six hundred bucks. She showed us the ticket. $603. Consider the possibilities.
If I had six hundred bucks I would put it into buying a new prosthetic schlong. I already have one but it never hurts to have a spare.
What happened to my real schlong was, I was attacked by a drunk French man with an antique bayonet on Main Street in Moncton. Right there on the sidewalk outside The Paramount Club.
Tonight we thought it would be funny to invite some French people to the Cinco de Mayo party and when they got here, make them leave. That’s a joke. But I digress. This French man told me in French he was going to cut my leg off. And he swung his weapon at me but he missed and chopped off my noodle instead.
Have you heard of phantom limb syndrome? I experience phantom member syndrome. I imagine that I still have feelings down in my pants where there is now nothing.
I had a prosthetic cock made to replace the one that got chopped off. I couldn’t afford a realistic, lifelike silicone penis so I had to get the wooden model instead. It’s very important to me to keep my wooden cock sanded down and as smooth as possible. After a while I had trouble finding sandpaper of a fine enough grade, so I started using a Bounce sheet instead. Now every night I sand down my wooden prosthetic penis with a Bounce sheet and it feels just great.
On Thursday night I spent ten hours hooked up to a misanthropic, malfunctioning machine. On Friday morning I dropped off the machine at the clinic and went to a giant book sale at Market Square in Saint John. They had plenty of chess books and plenty of Danielle Steel. Plus they had about four hundred copies of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, which were being snatched up left and right by those who enjoy a cute little science-fiction fairy-tale.
I am drunk, goodnight. May the 5th be with you.