Admire The Effort Even If You Are Creeped Out By It's Creator

So this is what 15,008 posts look like. An impressive collection of the beautiful and the madness that comes when someoe mixes his cat's meds with Butterscoth Shnapts. How have I not become a bigger world sensation by this time? I am doomed to only be understood in the years after my death. Can't I enjoy a groupie or three before I die?

I went out last night to try to mingle with people. I thought I looked good. I wore pants and I smelled like the bottom of cedar box full of winter sweaters. I was all but ignored because I give off this vibe of murderous carnival day employee - though one who is an awesome talker.

There has to be some woman out there would wants to tame this 'bad boy' (who is in reality a floating marshmallow who once took a shot in the face to save both an abused woman and her little dog (I pushed them both down in the truck while I watched the windshield explode in front of me.)

I told everyone that an exploding lava lamp did the damage. I still have buckshot in my head and arm and I want to get them pulled out. Any advice from my medical experts out there how to best go about that. I don't want to set off metal detectors and then be subjected to that full abusive pat down.