We're gonna fucking die. I mean DIE. As in: not alive. As in: Oh My God, the plane is going to crash! I mean we could have hotwaxed the MACK AVENUE SKULLGAME sled ("ain't there ever a hope of you getting like a NORMAL car?"--Italian Sal), the badass Ford LTD, where the LTD stands for Loves to Dick, and driven to LA for this Erotica LA 2003 but nooooo....we had to steak and champagne it through the auspices of Southwest "peanuts and pretzels" Air. And we hate to fly. And because we hate to fly soooo much, we must medicate.

One bindle of go fast duct-taped to leg? Check!
One huffage of K, crazy glued to ass crack? Check!
Ten tabs of E mixed in with the Bayer? Check, check and fucking Check.

Italian Sal said he ain't gobbling nothing that's been taped to my ass but he'll be singing a different tune when his life is flashing in front of his eyes during that endless one hour flight to LA.

Anyways, we will be hooking up with the lovely and talented Carly from Pornblography... she even gave us her home phone number, which we will start abusing the shit out of as soon as the plane lands.

This is NOT a photo of Carly. This IS a photo of a normal woman confronting
the handsomeness of MACK AVENUE SKULLGAME.

We will also be hitting Beverly Hills Jiu Jitsu to get some fighting in before we get to the show and start fighting over there.

And in the most perfect of all worlds the evening will end in some Valhalla like excess of fighting and fucking and fucking and fighting but which will in all actual fact end up in a lonely room at the Ramada with a run down escort demanding double for doing us both.

Ah, such is the price of fame.

Here's how handsome we were in High School. Go fucking cry now that you know that it'll be impossible to ever be as handsome now as we were then.