The PKast
Let's quit fucking around a be a mans. Gimme y'allses Skype info or add me to your contacts (I'll bug you day and night, I promise). My handle is XXXXX; my grip, deadly.
Working out a time might be tricky, but 12-1 a.m. EST (2 p.m. in the ROK, 9 p.m. PST...Australia? 3 or 4 p.m. I think) on Saturday or Sunday works for me*.
Let's do this like the guy who stabbed Julius Caesar.
PS: that's how part of the alphabet would look like if you removed Q and R.
PPS: Someone besides me post something already, or I'm going to rename the blog A Stir of Echoes. (This is tonight's post, by the way, because I want to shame you all**. Some -- ahem -- more than others. How fucking meta of me. I'm like Charlie Kaufman.)
PPPS: I desperately need a gift idea for the ladyfriend, because her birthday is this Monday. I was going to buy her Maroon Five tickets (we all have our faults), but I think the concert's sold out. What else? Should I pull a Homer Simpson and get her a Nintendo Wii?
E-Man, Master of the Universe
* I'm going to talk like the HAL 9000: THE WEATHER IS GETTING WARMER THESE DAYS. HOW IS THE WEATHER WHERE YOU GENTLEMEN ARE?
* TMH because he's shamefully handsome
2 comments:
I don't have a mic:
Dance. Let the record spin.
I was on at the appointed time, boss. K. saw me. He's my witness.
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