Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Fuck Smeagol

touch a rotting corpse
stick your finger up his ass
that's friggin' profound

Alright, so I got Smeagol's cell phone number from JJ, with the added knowledge tidbit that "Unless it's your payday, he won't answer." Bah! I thought to myself as I dialled his number from work, "He's a jerk, but surely he would answer his phone on his own birthday!"

I was wrong.

I tried 3 times, and then called JJ back to verify the number. He informed me that "Smeagol gets paid every other Tuesday. He is usually broke by Wednesday morning, and has to borrow money for gas and food and stuff. He will only pick up the phone if it is your payday and he thinks you will give him some money. Call him on Friday, I bet he answers."

We spoke about the possibility of my going to Smeagol's lair, as I really wanted him to do the product review, but no one knew exactly where Smeagol lives. He had been burned before, with family members sending the authorities and various bail bondsmen to his house before, so he decided to play it safe and not give anyone his address at all. I wondered aloud if I could just drive around Liberty until I saw the telltale aura of failure emanating from the very bowels of a particular apartment building. JJ suggested taking talcum powder with me and sprinkling it on the steps in front of each apartment. When it catches fire or I hear Smeagol howl in pain, I would know he was there. I would have to get ready much like Abraham Van Helsing did in the late 19th century: Like his garlic, I would need breathmints. Like his cross, I would need a GQ magazine or a valid work permit. Like his holy water, I would need hand sanitizer. My journey to Smeagol's lair would be fraught with more danger, though, as with Dracula you only had to worry about becoming a member of nosferatu yourself. In my case, I could get raptored to the very death, or at least until I got totally annoyed by having him caw and scratch me with his claw like nails. I could also get thonged, having Smeagol's oddly heavy with Raptor juice thong flung at me with the speed legends are made of.

The decision was made, out of my safety and the risk of letting a raptor run free when more people would be out, to go by the Smeagster's house this weekend, as Smeagol is known to work Booty ass overtime on Fridays and so would be hiberraptoring (like hibernating but with a lot of really bad smelling farts added in) and at his most vulnerable.

I will make the required edits on my review, as I had made some changes to add Smeagol in, and post tonight. I am so sorry to disappoint everyone, I know Smeagol would have made this special, but he's a douche.

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