By Bloggy Bloggerstein
Well my Tomcat brethren, it has been some time since I last reported on the Tomcats. Sure, it is the off-season you say. Other than high profile free agent pick ups like Matty and Vince signing huge deals with the club there isn’t much to talk about they say. I wish I could say those are the reasons for my interweb silence. The truth is stranger than fiction and this case is no different.
It all started with Husky Eyes borrowing a cup of “sugar” about 8 months ago. Christ. You go through a lot of sugar man. Come on, you must think I am a complete idiot. Just tell me you are tapping my old lady and I would have more respect for you. While I don’t blame my wife for succumbing to those deep, smoldering eyes of repute I certainly don’t have to like the fact that she did and or still does. Regardless, my son is as handsome as hell. Look at me. Do the fucking math…
After getting the news that I will be the father of twin girls I admit I lost it a bit. Sure, I am glad that Sunny took care of business. At least I know they will be good-looking…
The first night of my mid-life crisis was spent down at Ouellette and Wyandotte at the bus stop. I tried some meth and a bit of crack, woke up with a mouthful of pillow and a handful of quarters. After that I got in a tussle with that old lady with the shopping cart and the chihuahua. I think I could have taken her if it wasn’t for the drugs and the fact that she suckered me. After that I spent the night in the tank shivering between 2 air-thieving skinwagons who had almost electrocuted themselves trying to get some copper wire from the substation.
Day two was a bit better. I thought getting out of town was a great idea considering the fellow citizens I met in my town. As I found out, Mexico wasn’t the best idea. I grabbed a flight to Cabo San Lucas and went to party with Sammy Hagar. Apparently he doesn’t live there all year and the locals weren’t overly impressed with the fat gringo singing “I can’t drive 55” while swigging deeply from a bottle of tequila. Those guys sure can handle their shots better than me as well. After witnessing 4 beheadings, 7 other drug-related murders and strippers that turn into vampires I thought it was time to settle down. I will not give the name of my current location for fear that one of you fine gentlemen may storm down here and try to lure me back to Windsor. Sure, I will miss the boys. No doubt about it, the Tomcats are salt of the earth guys, totally top notch. I just can’t come back yet. I still have a bit of cash left due to my part-time job Casa del Taco (see photo below). They really seem to like me and have given me the nickname “Sausage Fingers”.
Take care boys! I may return some day…
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