How Checkered Pants Turned by Ass into a Target
A cautionary tale of flamboyant donkey dressing
An Excerpt:
"I was gettin' damn sick and frikkin' tired of the same question being asked of me time and time again about where (but not WHY oddly enough) the checkered pants my coffee bean beast of burden ass, the Hooved Slackser, came from. They come from a god damn store like any other pair of frikkin' pants, okay? They were NOT--and I repeat NOT--constructed from the pelt of a dead lumberjack regardless of what you might have heard about my time in Northern Minnesota with a rogue tailor/bountyhunter...not to mention the fact that the hide of a tree-felling fellow AIN'T gonna be plaid or checkered or WHATEVER..."
T
A cautionary tale of flamboyant donkey dressing
An Excerpt:
"I was gettin' damn sick and frikkin' tired of the same question being asked of me time and time again about where (but not WHY oddly enough) the checkered pants my coffee bean beast of burden ass, the Hooved Slackser, came from. They come from a god damn store like any other pair of frikkin' pants, okay? They were NOT--and I repeat NOT--constructed from the pelt of a dead lumberjack regardless of what you might have heard about my time in Northern Minnesota with a rogue tailor/bountyhunter...not to mention the fact that the hide of a tree-felling fellow AIN'T gonna be plaid or checkered or WHATEVER..."
T
posted by Tony at 4:09 PM
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