Hello?

CAN YOU HEAR ME?

I can't keep shouting, it frightens the rats.

your lips, red painted and smeary, are flapping wildly, but no sound is coming out. should we stop tapping the glass??

Zen, Zen, Zen, come over here, sit yourself down. Now then, Zen my dear chap, haven’t we been into all this already? Ask A Drunk was recently designated an official War Cemetery, packed to the brim with the mortal remains of those who were unwise enough to sail in her. You can’t expect them to post anything, you know, it’s too late for that. And standing here in the middle of the forum yelling your head off is not only disrespectful, it’s dangerous without an aqualung. And you’re not fooling us, we know that canister is filled with Southern Comfort not oxygen.

Rex I believe that you hit the nail on the head.

Zen Clown has a drinking problem.

I do not know for certain which it is but he is either drinking way too much or not drinking nearly enough.

I have come to this conclusion due to the long rambling e-mails that I receive from him thrice a day. They mostly wobble in circles around his delusions of meretricious abilities.

The latest e-mail contained the word HATPINS, every other word was hatpins.

The one before that detailed his extravagant plans for a potato farm, the sole purpose of which is to turn into Vodka.

Granted this would be a good thing looking at the plan from the surface but he went into detail how he would get enough potatos from his little 20 x 20 plot to make enough Vodka to keep him drunk all winter AND still have enough left the next spring to stay drunk while he increases it to a 30 x 30 plot.

The next year he would be even drunker than before and should easily be able to dig up a 100 x 100 plot.

His idea is to increase the size every year until he is farming the entire state of Missouri.

I am concerned.......

All by hand. No machinery. No shovels.

One does not have to study Freudian Theory to conclude that еdë §téè£ harbors an unconcious jealousy of my extraordinary fingernails.

Zen, if you grew opium and sold it you could buy more vodka than you could ever make growin' taters.

Nah. Too risky. I can eat the potatoes whereas hashbrown poppyies ruin the taste of eggs.

"meretricious", eh Dude? That'll be my "new word" for today.
Yesterday it was "pennecontemporaneous".

Maybe monkey ranching is what you should do.

He tried that once already but he planted about half of them upside down or way too deep.

Then there was that drunk driving on the cultivator incident.

Nothing but bloody bellhop hats and little vests spread out over 5 acres. Not a pretty sight, take my word for it.

See, that's proof of his lack of seriousness. Spending money on fripperies like vests and hats is the sign of a weekend monkey rancher. Like they say about W, all hat an no cattle... or in this case simians.

I thought that it was very nice of him to consider that they may catch a chill over those cold Missouri winter nights and supply them with hats and coats.

There again, It would seem that you would get a better return in the spring rather than trying for a winter crop.

Hmmmm, that makes me wonder about hydroponics and monkey ranching....

Time to investigate!

EUREKA!

I give you Hydroponic Monkey Ranching!

http://sea-monkeys.com/html/shoponline/detail_k3.html

Be a Monkey Rancher for fun and PROFIT

and you thought I was as crazy as that clown fellow.....

I suggest that you locate the "monkey house" out of ear range of the main house. That incessant chittering can be quite annoying.

I think it's cute when Zen gets all nostalgic thinking about his old girlfriends.

I know what you're talking about there Micheal.

Zen called me the other night and stayed on the phone for over 3 hours solid. He was off on a crying jag and completely sloshed to boot.

What started it all was, while cleaning out a drawer he happened across the first patch kit he bought for his girlfriend.

He was all maudlin reminiscing about the "good times" when she was brand new and how he lovingly inflated her that first time. Stories about them going for rides through the park, renting a row boat, swimming (she was an excellent swimmer), just laying naked on the beach in the sun.

When he got to the part in the story where he happened to be chosen by a chihuahua for a new owner was where it went downhill quick.

From what I gather the little dog was insanely jealous of the girlfriend and while Zen was gone to town on another beer run the dog dragged the girlfriend out into the back yard and began to chew.

By the time Zen found his way back home (it's easy to get lost where he lives) (i guess) one leg was completely gone, one arm was dangling by a few ribbons of vinyl, her face was still recognizable but only because of her permanent look of surprise.

At this point he collapsed.

Oh, he tried to revive her. He spent several hundred dollars on patch kits. He wasn't that concerned with the missing arm or leg since he had just recently discovered the amputee porn sites. (she was really HOT with just one leg) (he said) but as soon as he would fix her the dog would chew her again when he wasn't looking.

But he said he would get the dog back....... He has been traing it for several years now with progressivly smaller and smaller german shepard dolls. Making it HATE german shepards. It will attack the doll as soon as it sees one.

He is going to visit the police K9 academy next week......

Hello Jon, I don't remember seeing you round here before. Did you drunkenly stumble here or was it the eyepatch that disoriented you?