I'm in a roll.Up until now I've writen fifty

I'm in a roll.Up until now I've writen fifty of the eighty invitations to the stupid bachelor party my stupid friend made me throw for him."By hand!" he insisted when I mentioned e

-vite. There's no time for this. If this is going to turn into one of those Apatow style debauches, we've got to get the fat guy, and a written invitation won't do. We'll need

a bag full of uppers, a sack full of downers, and a handful of all-arounders. There's a little gathering down at Gary Busey's house tonight and Jonah Hill should be there. He's the

one hung out with Hunter S. Thompson and Raul Duke. Jonah had been shot in the face by the evil Doctor but the gun had blanks. Jonah Hill shit his pants and sat on Busey's

shoes which were filled with horse dung. At first he felt warm and happy. But then it hit him - the stink. He tried to get up but couldn't because he started feeling faint

and dizzy. It was probably the smell, but in his mind horse dung wouldn't be that powerful. He tried to get on his feet, but he still couldn't see very well. Then, he had and idea,

but it burnt out his brain. Blue smoke fizzled from the top of his skull and he dropped to the ground, smelling of burnt rubber. The smell was him all along.

leaned over the remaining pile of soft ash, raking around in it carefully with my hands. My eyes lit up. There was a gold ring with a small blue jewel in it. 'Yes.' I whispered,

it was so beautiful, I pee'd myself!