Well this was quite a little ordeal let me tell you. It all started yesterday which was Tuesday April 12th, 2011. I’m friends with a lady from South Carolina who goes by the name of Stephnay Kelleh. Actually, sorry that’s just how I pronounce her name. My bad! The spelling is actually “Stephanie Kelly”. Well this friend of mine, Stephnay somehow rope-a-doped me into going on this mission that I was somewhat unprepared for. I went over to the compound in Horsethief Canyon where she lives with her common law spouse, this fellow named Peter R. The plan that we had made the night before was to go do something fun. In the back of both of our minds when we make these sorts of plans is usually casino gaming at one of Southern California’s fine Indian Casinos. I didn’t realize I was in for much more then a gaming experience yesterday though.
According to Miss Kelly, So Cal Sandbags had to do some demolition work at a property on a hill in Lake Elsinore. The boys doing the demolition of all these buildings couldn’t get into the work because of several bee hives scattered throughout the place. Our mission was simply to do a recon mission, scout out where the bees were hiving and mark those spots clearly with orange marker paint so that some sort of extermination crew could get in there and kill the bees. Being the humanitarian that I am, a true lover of nature and all of its creatures (except fucking bears who I pretty much hate, along with cockroaches and black widows) I expressed my outrage in no uncertain terms at the terms of the mass murder of bees that was being planned and relayed to me by Stehpnay.
She’s a tough and sometimes harsh taskmaster, this Miss Kelly woman, and no amount of cajoling, begging or pleading had any effect at all on the extermination plans. Well to be honest, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the bees. It’s more of a situation where I had already seen this “property on a hill in Lake Elsinore” before and I knew this was going to be quite the mission. First of all there ain’t no roads up to this spooky property. I don’t know if anyone reading this has ever heard of a guy named Johnny Wisemiller but he was an actor in the late 1800’s or somewhere around then. According to Stephnay, this Wisemiller character was the original Tarzan in the first series about the white guy who lived with apes and swung from branches and shit like monkeys. I’m pretty sure that it was a silent movie series but I better do a little research on that part and get back to you okay so give me a little time. In fact, I gotta go right now. My ex is all buzzed up at her hotel in Blythe and apparently wants to have a little phone sex right now so there’s that. Then also too, I wanna get over to Pechanga Casino right now so I can win me a heap of money to replace the 6 bills I spent today at Active Ride Shop in Norco. So let me handle all that shit and I will get back to this story later when I come home at like 4 in the morning, either all giddy with excitement at having just won a shit load of cash or all pissed off and furious at the casino for robbing me personally blind like a piece of shit company does. Very much of a love/hate thing with the casino. Anyways you don’t need to hear all of that happy sorta crappy anyways do you?
I’m just going to post this right now with no pictures or anything because I know there are a dozen or so readers with no lives whatsoever who have come to depend on my inspirational words of courage and splendor on a regular basis. A couple of them may actually get suicidal if I don’t at least share a tad of my insightful commentary with the world before I take on Lady Luck, the fickle cunt, on her turf in the High Limit Gaming area at Pechanga Resort and Casino, in picturesque Temecula, California.
Talk to you soon okay people? Oh and by the way, thanks to everyone who has been reading lately! Your participation has been unbelievable (to the tune of 11,400 hits as of today, 1,400 in the last week alone), especially all of the google search hits for the “hottest ass”. Kudos to you perverts!!!