Howdy

Yuk, yuk folks ole Tim here again, I must say a special thanks to the Puppet Kid for all his replies as of late and to you other pranksters enough with the Ed Harris stuff. Well I was sneaking around down in the laundry room last night looking through the family's pockets for spare change ($7.46, a nice haul) and I overheard Big Sis and the ole bro-in-law talkin in bed (there room is right above the laundry room). Seems Ken Sr. is gonna have some big get together on Sunday to watch the Bills play. He sez he wants me out of the house on Sunday. I guess I embarrass him in front of his friends and relatives (hey I anit the one who's a cripple), but the Big Sis sticks up for me and tells him to invite me. Well, It's a courtesy invite but hey, I aint upset. Truth be told and beggin' the good Lord's forgiveness I don't particularly like the feller much. He's family so I put up with him and I get the gist the feelin's mutual. Ken Jr. and Sara, the same but they came outta my Big Sis so they're kin, but there dad's a hornweasle! So this morning ole Ken got's to go to Cosco and load up on supplies for the big sheebang. They got this ole handicapped van with a little elevator for his wheelchair, but he can't drive. Normally that's okeydoke cuz Peg or one of the kids does the driving, 'cept this time Peg and Ken Jr. are at work and Sara's in school. So Ken tells me to drive him, 'cept I don't have no license. State O' New York took care of that, permanatey revoked. I know he knows this and I try an' explain anyway but he tells me that even though his legs don't do nothing he still has an active NY driver's license and I would be proxy driving under his license as far as the law was concerned. I aint ever heard of this proxy driving but heck, I haven't drove in ages so I'm game. We get to the Cosco fine an' dandy, he sez he's proud that I'm sober, 'cept he don't know that I already had about 5 drinks so far. So anywho's we dod the shopping and after a bit I gotta use the john, so I tell Ken he sez okay so I go in an do my buisness snort a small bottle of Jack I had in my secret jacket pocket and when I come out ole Ken's gone! He just vanished, I check all the aisles I have him paged an' nothing! I look again, nothing. So I left but I don't want to get pinched for driving the van without a license so I walked down the road, I was gonna call Big Sis and tell I lost her crippled husband or maybe he was mugged and killed or kidnapped by aliens (Hey, Spork grab that one over there with wheels instead of legs), but she told me to NEVER (all caps means business) call her at work. So I was nervous so I went to the liquor store and the dounut shop and sat in the park and drank and ate donuts and wandered home when it got dark. The cripple van was in the driveway and Sara and her slutty friend Madison (John Sloss would like her, maybe you can spank her next week) are smoking on the breezeway and she sez you are otta here, #$%&! And they laugh at me. Ken's in there at the supper table and he just looks up what happened man? is all he sez. He was in the handicapped toilet and he fell and some dang kids cut the cripple helpper string alarm thing. Well I got to stay in the garage on Sunday, I'm not allowed in the house and I can't have any mozzerela sticks either even though he bought a big box of like 400 of them. Lord, forgive me but I hate that cripple Ken, Peg how come you couldn't marry someone cool who could walk?

Peace & love,
Tim