pWNd!

Sometimes, being me is just not fair.

For many months (8, to be exact), my peer manager Tony has been agitating for an alchoholic showdown between myself and the lead singer of his band the Royal T’s.

His claim: that she could drink any man under the table (ala Marion Ravenwood). He was mistaken, of course, and I tried many times to dissuade him from this course of action, which ultimately does not hurt HIS sissy ass, but that of the vocalist.

I Tried.

I really did.

To tell both of them that this was a bad call.

Even tonight, I warned the challenger that she had no hope of defeating the master.

After 9, she confessed that she was seeing double, and that I had kicked her ass.

I ordered a tenth, and I still feel fine.

I even paced myself, and did not take 4 drinks that were in the normal rythym of the Bhagwan. Alas, sent home weeping(figuratively, although I may owe Stev0 some damages for his car).
If only my power could be used for good.

The next hopes and dreams that I will crush are those of my Australian Distributor partner, who assures all and sundry that she can take me at GenCon.

AS IF!

This year’s August Excursion promisesto be very, very interesting.