Where's my consignment?
We worked out modalities!
Smeagol V Angelina (but not Jolie)
So soon after Erica realized the Smeags had no money or aspirations or teeth or plans to shower, she left him and went back to her husband, taking her big head ugly ass kid with her. I am telling you that kid was not cute. I am sure he had other qualities and would grow up to lead a troubled people one day but DAMN! I would hope if one of my kids was ugly one of my friends would have the decency to inform me of this before I was seen in public with him much longer. I mean honestly, people throw me a frickin' bone here. (Have I mentioned Dr. Evil from Austin Powers is my hero?)
Anyway, a month or two goes by, and Smeagol shows up with another lady. "Well good, he is back with his lovely wife Mystery, now the sanctity of marriage is complete" You might be saying to yourself. Well, not really. Instead of going back to his wife, he hooked up with Angelina, quite possibly the most evil looking woman I have met. She always seemed to have a scowl on her face, though that may be the after effect of waking up next to a raptor in the morning knowing you had sex with it the night before, drinking in the swamp gas emanating from it's slack jaws, a little drool still on your hardened nipples from him attempting to nurse while you slept, the stench of failure mixing in with the smell of his thong, hanging limply from your lamp, tiny tendrils of smoke from all the doo doo butter lazily floating around your room.
Anyway, it was close to Thanksgiving, and we invited everyone to our house, which was a problem waiting to happen, and may be a post in itself, there was too much going on to put it all in one post, so I will try to go at it from different perspectives. Smeagol revelled in telling us of his sexual exploits with Angelina, telling us of her heart of gold as she sat there scowling at my infant son like he was the reason she was with such an ugly man.
I will post on Thanksgiving later, but I wanted to get to the reason their love affair was so funny. About February of last year, after Thanksgiving, I got a call from the Mystical Retard. Smeagol had received his comeuppance in another bout of fisticuffs. I asked how old the guy was this time, thinking inwardly that if he was over 85 again I was going to have even less respect for Smeagol than I did not, and like a hurried shocker without the lube, Mom thrust the news upon me: SMeagol had been beaten up by Angelina.
The news hit me like an unstoppable rebel force, and for a second I was blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce another runner in the night. I listened as she asked me to pick up JJ and go help Smeagol out, as he was being assaulted by his own girlfriend.
part II tomorrow...