I would love to tell you all about what happened from the time the Nugent slayed the Thicke up until I woke up with most of Denmark surrounding my prone body. Of course I can’t because I was passed out and this is a work of non-fiction. What I can tell you is what they told me, all at once in a language I still didn’t understand.
Av mig God he’s vågen! Av mig God he’s levende! Allerkærest TOM du har blevet sovende nemlig henimod atten timer og vi var bange du var livløs! Du har overvunden den horribel Ugle Skabning og nyde oplagt os al af bestandig mørke! Vi skylde jer adskilligt men vi tal den prinsesse er mere end nok. Og nu nogen jo kunne konstruere den indre , opbygge en plan alarmeret babelfish og oversætte indeværende i det hele taget andenstemmer.
Continue reading “Chapter 14 – A Wink is Just as Good as a Blink to a Deaf King”
Perhaps you’re wondering where the hell I’ve been? Here you are, an innocent party enraptured by my life story only to be met one day by a stony silence which has kept up for well over a year now.
You want, nay, DEMAND an explanation!
I was the unfortunate victim of a well orchestrated terrorist plot, in which I was the main and as a result only victim. One day I will go into the horrifying details, one day I shall regale you with the months of rehabilitation and mental rebuilding that goes along with someone who has experienced the horror of the puppy bomb. For now, be content with the return of the story.
The story of TOM Starita.
Where was I?
Ahh yes, Ted Nugent had slayed Alan Thicke…
Unfortunately my internet time has expired for the evening and I’m out of dimes. Come back tomorrow!
Sometimes a man says, “Aye” without meaning to. Your mind is saying,
“Oh no no no. Absolutely not. I have no idea how to play a guitar or what a “Nugent” is. These are all impossibilities and although I sympathize with your situation, I cannot extend a helping hand. I am now off for my morning constitutional, good day sir.”
Continue reading “Chapter 13 – FOOBO”
Let me tell you something, I still get the creepy crawlies whenever I think about that half owl half man whooting long and hard into the night. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing and weaving up and down his long, crusted neck. His blue eyes rolled to the back of his head, yet his arms and legs stood perfectly still. If I had to pick one word to describe the seconds I had to endure during this time frame, I would easily choose, “off-putting.”
Okay, that’s technically like a word and half. But currently I’m on a bus to Des Moines, Iowa to defend my Mr. Canada championship against James Earl Jones. Don’t worry, it’s a long story and we have plenty of time to get there. As for right now, you were looking to hear what happened next…..
Continue reading “Chapter 12 – The Pink Orchid”
The ground was seconds away and I braced for impact. Whatever happened next would not be pretty, of this I was sure of. Throwing my hands over my eyes I waited to hear the inevitable bone snapping sounds echoing throughout my body. Instead, I felt my feet hit the ground without pain, surprising me enough to cause me to tumble forward, and then completely down a grassy embankment. Fifteen minutes later I came to a halt flat on my back at the bottom of a dank grassy ravine. Somehow, someway, lady luck had reached out and saved me from certain demise. Or maybe it had everything to do with the window being on the first floor. Regardless, I was alive, filthy and in need of a plan.
Continue reading “Chapter 11 – War Is Coming”
The events following the death of Phil are somewhat a blur. I know that as soon as the voice spoke, there was a loud click and the blinding light disappeared. Of course I still couldn’t see anything because my field of vision was impaired by the massive helmet covering not only my face but half my body. Next, I heard the door open and a torrent of foot steps come flooding into the room. I felt random hands lift off my polar bear blanket, and I could feel other hands scoop up my limp frame and carry me off to God knows where. From there everything went black.
Continue reading “Chapter 10 – My Pussycat”
Seeing how this is the without question truthful account of my life, I cannot lie to you – nay, will not lie to you. The last thing I need are historians in the year 2540 forming a committee to determine which events are true and which are sprinkled with the fine seasoning called embellishment. It’s not fair to anyone involved. So it’s important to me to accurately portray my true thoughts and emotions upon being told that Ma Pritchett was dead and I was going to marry the hottest girl in the history of human creation.
Continue reading “Chapter 9 – The One Involving Phil”