This story is brought to you by The Good Reverend.  What I experienced that day is not for the faint of heart…keep that in mind before you read on…

We had a number of odd or unsettling people who worked with us on the graveyard shift, and with them came many stories of incest, shame and plenty of shenanigans.  Little did I know that one of those stories would bring the worst visualization I have ever been exposed to; its lasting affects have completely ruined two of America’s favorite food and drink items – chicken and apple juice.

It started out just like any other lunch time…some people left to their local fast food joint for a burger, some brought their own food, some broke out their 20-sided die and fake plastic swords.  I, for one, went to my local Subway for a delicious foot-long treat (non-homo).  When I returned, I was greeted by the sight of one of our larger co-workers, who decided to visit the local super market for a bounty of flavor.  When she sat down and situated herself, before her sat two items…a large bottle of apple juice and an entire rotisserie chicken.

Bounty of Flavor

Many of us had our doubts that she would be able to complete this meal of epic proportions, but my god, we were wrong…dead fucking wrong.  She made a mockery of the chicken; it was a tornado of fingers, grease and teeth.  After 10 minutes of shame and hate, all that was left was the skeletal remains of a chicken with small bits of meat still connected to the harder-to-reach areas.

To wash down this spoil of poultry?  Nothing but 24 ounces of sweet sweet apple juice.

Before all of the apple juice could be put to use, however, disaster struck and our friend was called away to do ungodly things in the restroom (talking about poop).  What came next has stayed with me to this day.

From across the room, I heard a combination of laughing and gagging I had never heard before.  Normally, you would hear a sound like this if you were stuck in an elevator, you really liked fart jokes, and another person in the elevator just sat there for half an hour farting – over and over – until the smell was enough to make you light-headed.  Not one to be left in the dark, I went over to check out what the deal was.  I was greeted by an awful site.

Imagine if you will, a bottle of half-drunken apple juice, and on top of said apple juice…

…A thin layer of little bits of chicken, half-chewed chicken…mixed in with the half-chewed little bits of chicken, are larger chunks of half-chewed chicken…

Poor Chicken

To this day, I cannot think of those two delicious items in the same place at the same time.  Apart they are fine…together, I vomit.

- The Good Reverend

My buddy Tim is a sage:

As a whole, all females born after 1980 are whores, and those born before are OLD whores.

This is the sort of sage wisdom you look for your entire life, and maybe never find it.  Friends, enemies, lovers, haters…you can all use this wisdom, now and in the future.  Now don’t think this is a post to condone misogyny, but on the contrary, this is to show devotion to all female-kind.

We understand that all females are whores, and men show their complete and utter devotion to that end every day.  Men are whores just the same, but much less pretty.  And soft.  And curvy.  And breasts.  OK, that last one didn’t make too much sense, but who does not like a good pair of breasts?

To get the other side of the story, you should pick up The Wisdom of Whores.

So we had Passover a little earlier, doing it last night.  But fuck, it was excellent.

This was my first Passover where people actually did stuff, and you got to participate.  For the most part, past gatherings meant just being with family, and eating food, like any other celebration…with obvious restrictions (read: you eat that bread and you are dead…read2: yes, that rhymed – huzzah!)

It was an added bonus that I actually got to learn the story/history behind Passover as well.  No doubt there were plenty of shenanigans, especially when the wine-drinking and debauchery went into 5th gear.  But at the same time, it was a really awesome mix of learning something pretty interesting, and being ultra relaxed and having a great group of people to hang out with.

And don’t get me started on the food…

I NEVER eat real meals anymore.  Much of that is my own fault / doing, but the fact remains, nonetheless.  So that I am absolutely clear, and don’t stray into some long-winded rant about the taste of real food… it was FANTASTIC!

In general, it was just good times, from beginning-to-end.  I was, and am, one happy camper for having went.  Thanks to everyone that went (regardless of if you will ever read this or not ), and I still contend that the way the night was put together, can and should be.escalated to more people.   And…

THANK YOU, CINDY!

So so so…Lots of stuff to talk about, in the wacky world of your lord & savior, World Chancellor Jefforiah the Valiant, but it’s late, and I have a flight to catch tomorrow. So I will keep this sweet, and as short as I can…but I’m already starting to ramble.

Anywho…this won’t be about me trimming my pubes. Although, I must admit, last time around I did a hell of a job. I’m not talking award-worthy…but maybe “honorable mention” – you know? OK.

About four weeks back, I heard about this thing called the “Master Cleanse”…which apparently has been around for 40 something years, but I’ve never heard of it. Let’s not forget I don’t get out much…what with world Chancelloring and all…it’s tough to keep up with every little thing – you dig? Cool.

So I think about doing the “Master Cleanse”, after reading up on it (all of 12-14 minutes), I check out the pricing, etc…it all seems pretty a-OK. I figured, if I do it and I die, then my family would collect on insurance, but if I do it and I live, then I’d finally have proof of my superhero status.

In a nutshell, the cleanse is a fasting diet, that consists of drinking lemonade, water, morning/evening laxatives…and that’s it. No food, no other liquids. That’s it. Read it again if you don’t believe me, but this time stop at “That’s it” and just skip this sentence completely. I know, I know…that’s not healthy, that’s dumb, that could kill you, that’s a gimmick…whatever whatever whatever. Listen – I was born to rule the world, so I don’t give one hair on one rat’s piece of shit what anyone else thinks about my dumb and extreme decisions – me me me.

They recommend that people do the fast for 7 to 12 days, but it could be done up to 40 days. I’m talking consecutive days, of course. I picked 18 days. Why’d I pick 18 days? 1.) Go fuck yourself if you didn’t get the hint from above, & 2.) It just worked out that I could do 18 days, have 3 days to come off the diet, and then head to the convention in Florida.

Was it hard? Heeeelllllooooo superheros love love love to eat. Did I cheat? No. Not even once? No. You sure, buddy? Yes. 18 days is a long time…not even one little itty bitty morsel? No and fuck you. Is it for everyone? Probably not, but then again, we aren’t all lords/saviors/world chancellors/superheros…go fig. Would I do it again? Yes. Will I do it again? Probably, but not any time soon. Am I the greatest? Duh.How much did you lose? I lost 26 pounds.

If, for whatever reason, you want to try it yourself and have any questions, feel free to ask. There’s a lot of pointers I picked up over the 18 days that might be universally applicable, plus I read things on their forum boards, etc etc.

It’s getting late, and I don’t feel I can sustain my charm and wit for much longer, so I think this is where you and I part. But my last two thoughts….

1.) Ashley – you are fucking awesome as shit for making me vegetable soup. If you ever need a left or a right nut, for whatever reason…lab work, research, etc – you can count on me.

2.) This is another plug for Ashley, ’cause someone cooking for me is unheard of, and deserves double thanks. If you don’t know Ashley, and you are totally bomb ass cool, then you should add her and read her blog – http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendID=76700166. Note : no one will ever be as totally bomb ass cool as me, ’cause I am da bomb, but don’t feel as though you need to be at Jefforiah level.

That is all from my brain – MUAH!