Velociworld

Blogtoberfest Update #1

The situation is beginning to gel, like the swimming fat in a pot roast gone cold. Or something like that. I now have a similar book of rooms at the dilapidated exquisite Chalet Kristy, on the banks of the Chattahoochee in downtown Helen. Beat down the wogs to $139.50, too, which, come to think of it, was the exact towing bill for my vehicle after my unfortunate encounter with Officer McCumber when I was 19. Handcuffed by a female cop. I've never been the same: no, I've been far, far better for that encounter.

Anyhow, perhaps a bit of response from the usual suspects would be in order. That would be Kelley, Rankin' Rob, Key, Sugarmama, Dax, and everyone else in striking distance. I can't promise too much in the way of entertainment, despite my impresario credentials. I'm no Bill Graham, but I have a tentative billet with Eric and Rob in a Greco-Roman wrestling match on the banks of said river. Nude, of course, like the original Olympics. And by tentative I mean they are hearing of this for the first time here. My contribution will be a Number 8 washtub, to serve as a portable vomitorium.

Appealing enough? I really don't want to oversell this.