Hi Everybody!  I'm the Gas Food Theater Radio Comedy Hour!  I have a positive message for today's suicidal teens and balding thirtysomethings, but you can only hear it ON THE SHOW, so don't be a loser - tune in and hear for yourself!  I'm also a "blogger" if you know what that means, and so I'm blogging, right now as I type these very words! I just did a radio show on KVMR and boy was it great!  We had music and laffs and callers and somebody even lost an eye!  Hey, you know it's a party when somebody loses an eye, am I right?  You bet I am.  Plus, that Amy Crelly is a looker, even with the one eye.  She can look and look and she never gets tired of it.  And Jason might have actually bathed this week, he was that clean.  Scot and Tom were less than polite to some of the callers, but hey that is to be expected, right?  After all, they're the radio gurus, not you!  We miss you, Katie Hatefinger!  Call me? 

"Fisticuffs" is NOT a nasty word, and only nasty people think so.  That's all I will say on the subject.

MySpace is CENSORING MY BLOG! 

It's true, you boys!  They took my excellent blog about sharing peanuts with circus elephants down just because I gave out my home phone number and mentioned how much I charge for various services!  And also cuz I posted pictures of "Jason Adair" doing a big number two on top of the slide at the local playground!  About six of them, actually.  I mean six pictures; only One Number Two.  Let's see, that makes it... two times six divided by one... over that same two... plus he probably ALSO did Number One, cuz how can you not, right?... so you have to carry the one... oh, forget it.  I don't like it.  YOU do the math, as the kids say.

BASTARDS!  MYSPACE BASTARDS!  CALL the INVESTIBATORS!  I WANT MY SIN MAGAZINE ONLINE BY-LINE RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT!

I can write sexy, I know I can.  Watch:  oooh, that looks dee-lish-uss, baby, I could eat a chicken dinner with my hands tied behind my back off that sexy rump, ooo yeah... [and then she would go:] hee-hee, you're so nasty, i love it, tee-hee! [and then he's all:]  that's right, baby, the nastier the better, so get your big ol butt over here and do me some favors after I finish brushing my teeth.  [and then the girl's like:]  i love it when you brush your teeth like that, all strong and manly... the way you stare deeply into the mirror, the way the pepsodent suds gather at the corners of your mouth like you were foaming at the mouth, - GASP!... [only she wouldn't SAY "gasp" she would DO IT, then he goes:]  That's right, baby, I'm foaming at the mouth for YOU, grrrrr [and he would growl and then the fornicating would begin in earnest].

See?  You see how incredibly HOT that was?  I am an eroticist by nature, a comedy troupe by choice.  AND I VOTE, MR. BUSH!!

I'm the first to admit that I'm not realy a fundamentalist about anything, but I think I could be if there were some ancient doctrines that allow it's followers to eat desert before dinner. I could get on board with that in a big way. I'm not saying I would have the junks to kill someone who thought eating desert last was the greatest thing. I'm just not that kind of guy I guess. But I kind of wish I was in a little way. I'd love to be so sure of an idea that I would kill someone, or allow myself to be killed in the pursuit of killing someone. It reeks of a certainty that I have no concept of. I'm a guy who couldn't get a tattoo because I know damn well that with the light of the next morning, what I was so sure about would seem like a huge mistake.

When I was in sixth grade I made a lot of drawings of the car I would have when I turned 16. It was a maroon four door with a large paining of Garfield on the hood, and all the other characters on the doors and roof. I told some classmates about this and showed them the drawings when we were on a field trip to Foster's Freeze. Most of them said it would be so cool, but one girl I was friends with said she was pretty sure I would change my mind before I got a car, and that it was a pretty dumb idea. I told her she was so wrong, and to prove it I drew the car on all of my book covers and notebooks.

I got rid of all the drawing about six months later, because I realized what a dumb idea it was. But I still carry around that car, in my heart. Maybe I'll just settle for a Garfield tattoo.

The fact that I am "blogging" right now does not mean that I am a Dum-Dum.  In fact, it means that I am a "smart-smart".  The smartest member of the Gas Food Theater comedy troupe, in fact.  I am the only one who can type.  Plus I have enormous breasts.  I'm eating right and staying healthy.  I am a "friend" of Jason Adair.  What more could you possibly need to know?  Thank you and good night.