Honestly, who only pops out two posts a week? A mildly busy man, that’s who?

“Oh, you’ve been busy, you say?” you say.

“Mildly so,” I say, “Did you see what I just did with that last line? Lazy shit can’t do it like that.”
Anyway, what have I been up to? First off, I got this internet thing figured out. Well okay, like 50% figured out but that’s way better than Carl’s Jr, or like NewsCorp. I’m only claiming 50% because we didn’t really kill it on the income, but we did alright. So to spread the wealth around like a outta control socialist here’s how you let the internet break even for you:

1. You pick your crew. In my case I tend to roll around with a few ASIMOs. But when they’re charging their batteries (all the time. WTF Sony?) I hang low with Team Mediocrity.  So we’re running out e-mouths the other day when I drop this golden nugget via twitter,
We should really have someone pay to come drink in their establishment

2. Team member @the_boss_of_you aka The Hoan Gunman aka Shaq-fu aka the dude who is Single white female-ing my hair style passes this nugget on a certain bar known as AJBombers. There is some deliberation over rates and taxable income, but in time AJBomber says, with an e-smirk that we can take him up on the deal.

3. We call his bluff, get a stand in for @gmachotka aka The Pampered Chef and persuade @Larsma aka Big Riggin’ to haul us all down there in her Kenworth.

Now would be the right time mention that Larsma was not playing any of this in her car:

4. We arrive at the aforementioned tavern, walk in and demand some beers. Bartender Mike has to call his boss, who I can only assume is named A.J. Bomber, because he’s unsure of this idea. The funny thing is at no time does he doubt the possibility of us getting paid to drink beer there, it just seems a bit unlikely. He comes back and asks for @Keith_Lipski aka The Fibonacci Sequence aka the great-great grandfather of the French Keef, to tell us while they cannot pay us to drink, we can have a bunch of free beers.

Now, it’s important to note that as the man who brought all of us the French Keef, he was honored to hear the the latest issue of the New Yorker features an article on Poutine. It does fail to mention the Senor Lipski, which is a damn shame. For real, in Iceland they call it Poutine Keefsdottir.

5. We happily consumed a selection of fine, free beers. We left a bill for the Mr. Bomber, but he hasn’t paid it yet. Typical businessman, he claims net 30 or something like that. Yeah right. Try paying net 30 at fucking Applebee’s. But I’m going to let him slide. Needless to say the AJ Bombers was rad for propping us up.

Lastly i’ve been a bit preoccupied trying to get that christian side-hug.