There will be no posts until Monday, 5/23/16 as I am off with my Pimp Cane, the Black Jamaican Nazi and his 1898 Mauser and the Africa-Scottish-Cherokee Viking packed into the serial killer van. Us three heathens have been extended a most Christian invitation by Sean and Nick to share their gun range [I shall hopefully put at least one round into the hillside. I fear though, that targets smaller than houses shall be safe.] and then beat the varied-colored piss out of each other, where I expect to plant some younginz and biginz in the turf.

Sean, getting together more than five knuckleheads never happens unless you are doing a charity event or selling tickets and offering cash prizes. Of the 18 events I have now put on we had:

1 14-man

1 7-man

1 6-man

8 5-man

2 4-man

1 3-man

2 2-man

2 busts, with just this evil twerp showing up to fight

Honestly guys, I expect to murder you steel-children with the machetes, and since Charles will not be there to put on the tragedy of The Slaughter of the Innocents with sticks while I wince on the side-lines, it looks like I should be dominating the stick work too. But never fear, if it goes that one-sided I promise to sacrifice my brain on the pugilistic altar. I have no desire to throw or win my last fight. I want to go out the hard way.

It will be my last competitive combat. After this I will limit my contact to sparring.

Sean, I'm bringing the beer, and since most of us are descended from Irish slaves, I'll be bringing some Irish Ales and stouts in memory of all of the Irishmen those Pennsylvania Quakers worked to death or threw to their Delaware watchdogs, and most of all, Hugh Glass, who died fighting real warriors out in the Big Country I'm headed to in September.

Over the weekend I shall be contemplating Monday's feature article, Smart Bitches. Don't miss it or you might never know why you're being led away in cuffs from the house you are paying for by some goon pigs while the woman you thought you knew cries on some dyke pig's shoulder.