250 million and a chance at not being on meth

Well hello there sex and the sity, it's me again, the randall tuhchie. Now I know I got some "splanin" to do (I love lucinda reference), but bear in mind that I now have a new job and it's not every other day that I get to call in drunk. Speaking of work, I need to make a phone call. brb.

Ok, now that that's out of the way, I wanted to let you know what i have been up to as of late. Some of you catch my tweets on some AOL software called AOL, but for those that arent always catching the up to the minute randall updates on someone's lost iphone, I just wanted to catch you up. Nothing really, just texting from the potty when my manager lets me get a 6 minute break. Ok, now that we are up to speed, here is the randall world.

I was eating some american cheese that got burnt on the bottom of the oven when my GF chris told me that only retarded babies lay on the floor. I blewed her a kiss and she farted somewhat near my head. She told me to paint a picture cause it would last longer (foreplay). She is got the voice of a sexual husky and the heavenly wafting aroma of a healty digestive track chok full of cheddar melts. I tell you what sex in the sity, she is something dreams (the good ones without grandpa) are made of. Now I know what you are thinking and, well I have to say, please stop interupting my microphone to computer dictation software. I know, it seems like all I do is wash my underware in the sink and work all day, but to tell you the truth, I have been waiting to get back to you my sweeties. For I know that after a long hard day of spending most of the day hiding in the tube slide (legs get tired from bracing myself against the walls), you my sexy in the sity friends are the thing that helps me to vent.

Well after chris farted and the health inspector was done inspecting the "meat curtains" (dont get it cause there aint no windows) in the freezer with my bestest GF in randalls world, I had the task of scraping theold mice off the glue traps. No problemo though, I found a flat metal handled device near the stove. easy peasy chineasy, done and done.

Eventually, chris and the sweaty inspector came out and all way ok, we didnt get our license revoked. Which is good, cause I need this new job cause I am saving up to geet my dog turnip out of some dog jail called youthanized. I'M COMING FOR YA GIRL!

After intercourse(meal between meal around 10:00am), I decided to take an early lunch. Well sex in the sity, I decided to go get a bag of crunch and munch and a suicide fountain drink at the the local Texaco gas station (It's good to support local business). Well I was coming out of the turcker showers when this rude lady with no teeth and toilet paper hanging out her low cut 501's pushed her baby to the front of the line and was being pretty rude to the f*cking troll behind the counter. Now I know what you are thinking and no i did not steal a gallon of milk, but I just felt like i had to do something. I said "hey lady, look who has your baby". She screamed and threw a charlston chew at my head but it hit my leg and it only cost me 1D6 of damage to my zubazz exoskeleton. NICE TRY LADY! You know I just hate it when people make other people feel less than cuban. That's why i took the baby and ran. I ran so hard and so fast i thought my floppy bunny slippers were gunna catch on fire. I ran across the parking lot and threw the baby in the rear passanger window of a car that was driving away. "Touchdown!" I yelled and high fived a guy washing windows. The lady, faining tears, ran after the car down the street. I thought to my self, "randall, if you were a super hero, and not the kind that can transfer the contents of his bladder into evil villans, but the good kind, than fella, you are closer to being him than ever before.

At this point I pulled up my pants (around ankels) and went to pay for my, as Lynn Rosette O'Casper calls em, fucking homless people food. Mmmmm Mmmm, I couldnt wait to bust open my crunch and munch and take the bus home. But before that, i had to pay. I got back in line and there was another lady that was in front of me. It was so sad, sex in the sity. She was on meth drugs and she had an awful voice that sounded like 100 kittens being burried alive in the crawl space of your house (please remember to spay and nuter your pets). She was returning pop bottles for a few bucks. Instead of buying some food for her baby, or a gallon of half and half, she decided to do the smart thing and buy a lotto ticket. i mean, come on... this lady had her priorities in check. With powerball currently at 250 million, I wish I had a whole wheeled wire basket full of pop bottles so that I could get this lady another 2 dollar ticket/250 million dollar wish. Just so she could get off of meth drugs.

After I paid for my suicide and crunch and munch, borded the bus, and began mindlessly chatting with the pople in the handicapped seats, I thoughted to myself, what if... what if I had a chance to go for something bigger. I know, I stole a baby and threw it into a moving vehicle, but that's pocket changed when compared to wishing upon a star to get off of meth.

On the way home we passed a homeless man after homeless, carrying bags and bags of can. No, not just cans, but can-portunities... can-portunities to leave their tired ways behind and move closer to that setting sun the 9 bus to gresham city center was heading into.