Thursday, February 07, 2008

Invalid Response


Curse that Blockade Boy Revenge Squad! A space-pox on them, I say! Pernicious fuckwads--!

They broke into my bachelor pod Sunday morning, while I was passed out drunk at church! I returned to find the place ransacked, and Cootie gnawing on the severed foot of one of the perpetrators. (Before I could take the lonely appendage to the crime lab, Cootie had swallowed the entire thing. Dang it.) At first, I just thought the Revenge Squad had stolen a few items, like my kangobronc trench, and my fifty-liter drum of Bubble Helmet Cologne For Especially Manly Men. But that night, when I went through my regular "handsomifying" routine (in front of a picture window, natch) I received a horrific shock! No sooner had I slathered my fur-bearing form in moisturizing creme, then all my body hair fell out onto the floor, with a tinkling sound one usually associates with the sickly tree from "A Charlie Brown Christmas." The Revenge Squad had replaced my lotion with a depilatory! I immediately collapsed to the floor, deathly ill, and weak as a kitten. I swear I saw a flashbulb go off in the distance. I've been laid up on my stone slab of a bed since then, while my pelt grows back, even thicker and more alluring than ever before. Klup and Ox have been most comforting, and the gang back at the detective agency sent me a basket of imported space-wines and soylent sausages. It was a real sweet gesture.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to blog in the last three days, and blogging might be spotty for the next week, but I should be back up on my furry feet real soon.

Stay hairy, guys!