So one of our bank card numbers got hijacked by the Costa Rican mafia or something, and we got frauded of a few hundred dollars. The fraudbot people were like, "It's flagged, and it'll be back in 3 to 10 days." I guess for some people that's chill, it'll work out, but for us here at the Bird Tribe that sort of takes us away from "Hey, pick up some milk on the way home," to "Lolol I hope we have something awesome left in the freezer to eat for dinner." (Which we do, by the way, so we're not starving, but stay out of the freezer on my front porch.)
But here's the deal - next week is my birthday, and now we're broke as fuck. So I'm having a
BLOWOUT SALE AT WORKINGMAN ETSY
where you buy some of that totally awesome and spiritually enriching shit, and put in the code 27225 and you'll get 20% off. In case you are wondering, "Why 27225? That's kinda random," it's not random at all. On a phone, 27225 is how you spell Crack, and I told my wife, I've got everything I want, so really all I'd want to do is have like two days alone in a shitty hotel smoking all the crack I could want. It's been two years since I quit drinking, and like seven since I last smoked a rock, so I just want to get fucking high as fuck, to where my toenails have that NYYYYYYYYAAAAHHHHHHH buzzing sound in them from being so wacked out on crudely altered chemical cocaine chunks.
And hey motherfuckers, did you even know I have
ONE THOUSAND FEATHERS ZINES
too? Them motherfuckers are awesome. I mean, I know you're all on the internet and think that's the way the world is, but let me put some realness back into your mailbox one time right quick. You paypal me $20 (on the sidebar to the right) and I'll stuff a priority box full of zines and ship them to your ass, to share with your friends, win over anarchist viking women, and destroy obedient pavlovbots in Wal-Mart parking lots.
Seriously though, I'm 'bout to be broke on my 40th birthday. With no fucking crack to smoke.
No comments:
Post a Comment