King Richard Simmons set off to the holy

King Richard Simmons set off to the holy lands. Finally, after years of battle he alone would the liege that

sacked Jerusalem. Yes, it was as gross as it sounds. To this day, the natives of Jerusalem commemorate the sacking of the city by King Richard Simmons with a day of mourning.

They put aside all differences and burn an effigy of Richard Simmons dressed as Saladin on a pyre. Then they lounge and eat as many donuts as they like. The new King of Jerusalem

The key was to find the right blend of fiction and recurring memes mixed with enough half-truths to sway the story in a direction that left the reader feeling sympathetic to his

flaws, rather than being completely disgusted, much the same way readers are fascinated by Frankenstein or vampires. A combination of death and frightening good looks was essential

to win over the snobby ladies at the Flibberty Gibbert Society. I was invited to escort attend a grand ball held by the society at Horse Leap House in a fortnight

on St. Albans Day. After that untoward affair down at Blackspittle's Gate, I felt confident my presence would not be too dearly appreciated, especially by the Baronet Ferschmichle.

Their name I often mangled into Dump Sack, anyway, and I was never a favored guest on the best of days. No, today I was determined set off on my own. It would be an adventure!

I had a bus pass with unlimited travel for 30 days and took 1,000 dollops out of the bank. My rucksack was filled with 30 days of snacks for the road. The bus arrived at 8:40:15.