Posted 6:19 PM by Alfred

I gotta call up some important, or potentially impending, personas en mi telefono and tell them why, why, why. Why do manta rays swim upstream in the summer?

I’m gonna tell em that tha jurk storr called, and that Pat McGroin is their new number one best seller.

Then they will love me and buy a shitload of shit. shitloads.

I could really go for some like lomi lomi salmon and poi and a little lau lau and a nice draft beer, either something local or imported none of that mainland shit. well, U.S. mainland that is. Maybe some longboard ale. And maybe top it with a guiness after a spell, since it’s fantasy land anyway and I don’t have to worry about the state of my stomach.

Aight no better time than the present. Fingers reaching for phone, dialing

Whoah, that actually went pretty well. I now know who the superdeeduperdee special manager is for giant corp. which is this company that might buy a SHITLOAD of skunks from us. Damn, batman, if I crack this case open, some duckets are getting sprayed, straight shellacked across the ceiling in psychoactive red gold & green. I mean, I didn’t talk to the man, but inexplicably the random name I was looking for turned out to be the man and I got a hold of assistant or flunkie or what have you of said man and said man has been given a message as to give me a call, and now I am set the fuk up to be down with the serious discussions that will occur when the chief regional skunk master flies in from Nebraska and we all head down to giant corp for a big showdown, you know son, we deal in lead, of which I will be down with cuz I got our asses in the door and nobody except nobody messes with big jim slade.

So now that I am down with the scene I gotta figure out what I’m gonna wear. I’m thinking my shark skin green tinted suit with matching slightly off tempo socks with my Stacey Adams special custom Tokyo edition penny loafers and tie with say a can of spinach design montage on it. plus my platinum grill, the one with the hope diamond smack in the center. Well, at least a reasonable facsimile.

And then to top it off, just to make all parties feel perfectly at ease and add like that certain jene say kwah to the festivities, I’m gonna wear my cal bears hat and get really drunk off of cheap wine and make obnoxious comments about coffee stained boudoirs and corsets made of twizzlers and chewing gum. Everyone will most likely applaud my daring and risqué devil may care attitude, anoint me the new king of the realm, and if everything happens according to plan I’ll be starring in a 3 month run of an outdoor theatrical version of the classic Felini film “8” by mid December at the Waikiki Shell.

Shit, maybe we could open up for Jerry Seinfeld.

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