I DO NOT WET THE BED. All that much.
Stupid Tusker. I just don't understand why I even told him that. Or when! Hmm. Unless... yeah. It must have been the night of that karaoke party he had over at his pod. He didn't spend a lot of time singing. Or even working the karaoke machine! He made me do that! He said I probably knew everything there is to know about them! And I do. The original karaoke machines were manufactured in [EDITED FOR SPACE] and then yank it out at the very last possible second. But I digress.
What Tusker did do at that party was to serve up alcohol, and puh-lenty of it! Not that I ever saw him do any drinking himself. No, ma'am! He just got us all to blabbing about ourselves, while he listened. I don't know what he would have done if Storm Boy the Rootin' Tootin' Teetotler had shown up. Maybe give him about twenty bunt cakes and see what happens.
And then, Tusker the World's Stupidest Evil Genius lost his "slam book." And then somebody else immediately found it and posted it on the Intergalactic Intraweb, and then everybody everywhere knew everything about everybody in the office.
The upshot? My girlfriend broke up with me, and now I'll probably never have sex, and all the guys from my tabletop gaming club are calling me "Waterbug" and "Supersoaker" and "Urinalysissy" and... OH. You mean, how's everybody else doing?
I'll make this brief. You know how [EDITED FOR SPACE] seats six people, quite comfortably! Sorry; I seem to have gone off on another tangent. So, to sum up: Eyeful Ethel, Rainbow Girl, and Nightmare Boy are all in jail. Phantom Lad refused to press charges against Frigid Queen, so she's okay. Blockade Boy and his cat are on the lam, although I understand their exploits have popped up on the Heroes United forums, while he judges costume designs if you can believe it. And nobody has laid eyes on Tusker since last week. That means that the Eyeful Ethel Detective Agency now consists of Dentata Damsel, Frigid Queen, and I, with Storm Boy somehow in charge! (I didn't vote for him. Heck, I demand a recount!) Oh, and Phantom Lad is answering the phones. During the few moments he can spare between hour-long personal calls.
Storm Boy keeps talking about wanting to keep up Blockade Boy's "legacy" like he's already dead or something, so he's making me post in this dumb blog about comic book covers. From his own collection, and not Blockade Boy's. (The Science Police hoisted away the entire building Blockade Boy's bachelor pod is in, "for evidence.") Here's the first cover Storm Boy showed me:
Huh. So... what can I say about this cover? Hmm.
First of all, I think he should ask that lady back there what the deal is with the voodoo drums. She looks like she just came from outside; maybe she'll know. Also, I'm pretty sure that's a surfboard leaning up against the wall, so maybe he should just hit the beach and "hang some waves" or however it is the saying goes. Or, heck... he should just up and move away from there. Post his resume on SpaceMonster or some other website, and find himself a good job in a big city. Then, maybe he...! Hold on, please. I just got handed another comic.
I guess he did!
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Middlemath (by special guest-columnist, Gadfly Lad)
Posted by Jeremy Rizza at 1:10 AM
Labels: beard, fuzzy bosoms, Gadfly Lad, Phantom Lad, Storm Boy
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Don't worry, I bet there are lots of people who like bed wetters. I bet you could even find a cute girl to diaper you up and stuff, ha ha.
Please, let's not traumatize the lad anymore than he already is. (You sure gave me a good chuckle, though!)
Gadfly Lad, from a fan, and a fellow gamer, hang in there.
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