Let It Bleed

This morning my tongue was bleeding. There was definitely a reason that my tongue was bleeding, but still, tongues ain't supposed to bleed. It was bleeding because I burned it severely the previous morning drinking a cup of hot hot tea. I am now suing myself for gross negligence and seeking unspecified damages for the loss of my sense of taste.

On Thursday night, my Shaq-like abilities were once again on display in Net Force's 24-57 loss to Citrus Punch. And by Shaq-like, I mean that I was 0-4 from the freethrow line. KAZAAM!!



In current events, I was contemplating how Hunter S. Thompson wants to get his ashes shot out of a cannon. And it got me thinking about what I would do with my ashes. Well, here's the plan: (And I think this constitutes a legally binding contract) I want my ashes ground up and baked into the cake to be served at my funeral. The funeral will then have a taped message prepared by me where I:

1) Reveal that everyone is now eating my ashes.

2) Play a clip of Charlton Heston proclaiming that, "Soylent Green is People!"

3) Reveal the final surprise twist that everyone must spend a night in my haunted mansion to inherit my vast fortunes.

Don't say you weren't warned!