Get Wrecked

I am so glad I will be in Mexico while the Wrecking Ball is embarrassing the rest of you down at San Felasco. That guy is definitely on the Marion Jones “Victory is at Hand” program. The two of us snuck out for a hooky ride yesterday afternoon and something is going on. No more self-deprecating jokes, now he says things like, “I’m fit” or “Hey, pull my finger.”

Not sure what that finger business has to do with anything, but still–I’m warning you. A few months ago I could have picked him up like a Pomeranian and marched uptown to Bed, Bath, and even Beyond that. Now he is more pugnacious, like a beefy Pekinese or a really tough Pomeranian. The only hope the rest of you have is if Bigworm welds the seatpost of his new Giant Trance just a few centimeters high for the ride. If he doesn’t flat out drop you all it will only be because he is a nice guy and he isn’t finished telling his story yet.

And that wave was big, but the next wave was as big as the biggest wave that ever wove in the history of waving, so that’s the one I dropped in on…

And speaking of dropping, did I tell you guys you were in trouble at San Felasco?


6 Responses to Get Wrecked

  1. Ha ha now I have a target on my back.
    Death to the quiche maker!
    You will pay… oh and the little dog refences, that’s in my grudge book!
    Can I get you something to eat? You look famished.

  2. That’s it! For at least a week, or until such time as he stops reacting to it, W.B. will be referred to as Benji! Tell me there’s no resemblance given his current hair don’t! As for gettin’ dropped, I’ll build in a few time release gremlins in that new rig of his, and he’ll be waiting for me like a good little pup!