Tuesdays with Jake on Wednesday.

Ladies and mostly Ladies,

Welcome back Jake after a brief hiatus. He loves you too.

Sorry I’ve been gone for a week. I’ve been busy.

See?

Wednesday July 16th:

“Do ya’ll want to see some titties?” A man yelled into a microphone.

“Oh no,” I thought. I was in a strip club.

“Yes, you are.” Said a man in a cowboy hat next to me. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I can hear your thoughts. It’s simple: I’m your dad.”

“No you’re not.” I replied aloud, thumping bass in the background, bronzed breasts bouncing about on a linoleum dance floor.

“I know,” he said. “I should just go.”

And there he went. Slowly, looking back over his shoulder every three steps or so.

“The funny thing is, that guy WAS my Dad.” I said to a stripper who was windexing my face with her chest. “Ha, ha, that tickles.”

It tickles a lot.

Satruday July 19th

“Do ya’ll want to see some titties?” A man yelled over a microphone.

“Oh no,” I thought “I’m in a strip club again.”

“Too bad! This is prison.” He laughed and laughed and laughed.

Phew.

Sunday July 20th

I slipped into my apartment quietly and the woman I hired to act like my wife was standing there, holding a wooden spoon and an iron.

“Where have you been?” She boomed.

“Prison, ok?”

“Ok,” she replied. “Can I tomorrow off?”

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

And I didn’t care.

I heard she’s dead now or injured.

Women.

Monday, July 21st

“Is that a bulldozer in my bedroom?!” I yelled in my bed. I also had one of those pointy wizard-sleep caps on.

“Yep!” Cackled the Bulldozer man “April fool’s?”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked.

“Boys, tell ‘em!” He shouted. A bunch of men in capes appeared. One stepped forward. He handed me a shirt.

“Did you leave this at the library yesterday?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I replied. “Was the bulldozer necessary?”

“Yes.” They all left.

And then a bird flew up my ass.

Sorry guys.

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