It didn't take me long to realize that Julie

It didn't take me long to realize that Julie was a kleptomaniac.

All I had to do was re-count the cigarette butts in my ashtray. Yup, only four. There should've been five. Why she thought she could get away with such a brazen act is beyond me.

Eating my fifth cigarette was bad enough, but snorting the ashes was...well...beyond comprehension. So, as she sat there on my faux leather sofa...with cigarette ash on her upper

bosom, I was torn...it disgusted me, but she was delicious..I just had to snort the ashes...and lick the tar from her lower bosom...this war would never end...not for I, Bardamu...

The thirty years war brought down all the monarchies in one felll swoop. They drank the kool aid I made that was laced with narcissism. I played dumb when the karma police

came bursting through our doors, trying to find me--the koolaid culprit. But they were also narcissistic from the koolaid, and they thought with certainty it was my brother Clyde.

He got the nickname Blue Clyde after the time he drank blue Kool-aid and hallucinated that he was one of the Blue Meanies. They were sure it was him, not me, that had spiked their

horse carcass meal with Alien venom laced LSD. He hadn't counted on Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac to walk into his trap. The damage was done. Green called him Blue Clyde in his visi

on and that was the final straw for him. Unfortunately, it came too late. The excess of LSD popped his head off of his shoulders. So let this be a cautionary tale for you: Don't

let the bastards get you down. Always bet on black. Never give up, never surrender. And above all else, don't trip balls without a trusted friend to keep an eye on you!