Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Prague: It Was Kafkaesque

My little sister was abducted into an Eastern European sex trafficking ring where they don't let you cut your bangs. So me and my mom flew over to rescue her. Her captors were pugnacious and determined, and forced us to fulfill a series of challenges. We had to:

Take off our shoes.
Pet a puppy.
March with the soldiers. They're kind of hotties, in a ghoulish Slavic way.
Overcome our fear of marionettes.
Play the washboard.
Use a toilet on the precipice of an abyss.
Send in the clowns.
Eat dinner.
And then we got her back.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

My Time in the Clink

Sorry I've been away for so long. I've been serving my debt to society in the clink. I was picked up on a disorderly charge at Coyote Ugly when I jumped up on the bar and performed the choreography of the fabled "Devil Dance," in which a sassy barmaid writhes and thrashes to "the Devil Went Down to Georgia" to the delight of the rotund and sallow patrons. I had been rehearsing privately for some time now. Apparently I left broken glass and a few scraped John Goodman lookalikes in my wake. As I was hauled off the bar mid- line dance, I apparently threatened violence against the unappreciative audience. I don't quite remember, I made a special cocktail of Klonopin and St. Germain to ease my nerves before my big debut.

Since my legal counsel Brooke D is still earning her JD online through Phoenix University, my incarceration was longer than expected. Pup finally sprung me with a special cake on visiting day, with a file baked in the middle. Those are my brass knuckles that knocked some bitches out. And here are some of my friends from jail:

This is Mary Wiley aka "Wiley Lady." Were are just friends. She was picked up on a shoplifting charge. She used her hat to smuggle large quantities of beads and silk flowers out of arts and crafts stores to gussy up her other hats. I don't know why she got to keep her hat and I didn't get to keep my knuckles. Our justice system is so flawed.

And here's good old Charles Iburg, aka Pervert Charlie. He got nabbed "corrupting the morals of minors." I'm not sure exactly how he corrupted the morals of minors, and I didn't press him on it. He did mention something about not being able to live within 1,000 feet of a school upon his release... Maybe he was teaching the kids roughhousing?

And here's the style icon of the Bowerey, Jimmy the Gent. He got his nickname for his dapper dressing and gentlemanly manners. Jim's favorite expression was "Why, if what I say isn't true, then I'll eat my hat!" In an improbable romantic twist, he and Wiley bonded over their passion for millinery, and now sell specialty headware to barkeeps and old- timey bands in Williamsburg. But don't fuck with them. Wiley and Jimmy will shank you.