Pauly Tom Tom here, wit a few things we need to attend to. Foistly, dat goofy lookin’ box up dere on the right…yeah, you sees it. Dat’s what ya click to be able to comment on da all free writing dis Fred guy is pounding out. Sos it doan matter wedder ya likes it, or ya think is was five minutes ya wasted ya oughts ta take a second to give it the old tums up or tums down.
I also knows dat youse been sittin’ around on pins and needles about da condition of dis poor SOB wit the spit problem. But I gotta tell ya, I think it’s da funniest ting I ever heard. Rocks in yer spit? Freakin’ hilarious!
Anyways, dis Doc’s nurse (who must have a deal wit da plastic surgeon next door – if ya knows what I mean) calls back after ol’ Freddy gets his head X-rayed an she said there didn’t seem to be any rocks in his head. ‘Course da Doc has to tell him in person on Friday, like he’s some kinda big shot. So youse can put away yer beads…cause the jerk is gonna be OK…OK?
So I’m gonna keep an eye on dis clown an make sure he doan get into any more trouble.
Oh Yeah. Dere’s one udder thing I wanna tell ya about. Fer dose of you new to da the blog world (would that blorld? No, I tink that was da blond guy in Abba…Ha! ya know dat’s funny). Anyways, ya reads blogs backwards…the last page you wrote is on da front page. It’s like someone published it in freakin’ Japan, ya know, where the books open backs to front.
So seein’ as dis is sorta chronological frum wenst dey landed here in Massa-freakin’-chuetts right ups to today. Youse oughts to go to the bottom of da page and catch up on all the previous fun and games. I doan wanna hafta be going back an remindin’ youse people.
Day 41 no Aloha Shirt sightings