The brain is an amazing thing. Somehow, despite the sheer exhaustion of dragging my rotting carcass around a whole bunch of stores and and at least one major Chicago area mall, I have made it here to tell you all the following: Don't go to Carson's! I think they really want to kill me. And when you come to save me, they will get you. The damned fools haven't hired enough people to handle the zombie crowds and have virtually no cash registers to pay and escape.
Ah, but Colette and I did escape or I wouldn't be posting this update today of this week's Creepsville. And if I hadn't had that dinner last night, I wouldn't be fighting heartburn today... though I'm not really fighting that. It's a joke. Ya hear me, boy?! That's a joke, son!
Anyways, click on the artwork below to see the legible version. Meanwhile, I think I will work on a turkey hash. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Also, please do keeping checking back up here, because the holiday spirit... the kind of spirit that inspired the Dean Martin Christmas Specials, is forcing me to post more often through the end of this year. There. I said it, now I gotta do it. Is that Tom Atkins' glow-in-the-dark-mustache?
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