tap tap tap…is this on? Can you hear me? No? Just as well, I’m going to give my speech to an audience, half of whom are passed out, half of whom are puking their guts up, and half of whom are trying to seduce the other half.
Hello fellow losers.
We meet in this sacred hall to celebrate my winning of the teller of the fishiest stories (a surprise award presented to me by me
- hint to Belle et al…if the chinchy bastard that gives out stuff doesn’t give you an award, give yourself one. Make it a good one too-)
as well as the award for having the biggest bat in the room, the million dollar check that goes with it, and the IronMan2® Summer Smash(ed) Award. I am autographing life size pictures of the “unit” that won me this here award backstage after the show.
I worked very hard to earn your respect. I got on the sober wagon for 30 seconds one day, I straightened up and flew right (into a telephone pole) I stopped my lascivious leering at the naked female rugby scrums, (and I promise not to put the slo-mo bits on U-Tube –Hey, I never promised not to tape them – unless it’s done to promote naked Women’s Rugby leagues in bars or can make me a buck or two). And I retrieved all errantly flung underwear items from the women’s volleyball games. I have my reasons for not returning them, but I’m under orders from the CIA not to reveal them. Just know that they are all safely hidden under my pillow, TYVM.
So, here we are in the hallowed halls of Loser Lodge for another gaudy self congratulatory ceremony that is absolutely no interest except to us.
As it should be. Home at last.
Update; ZIP, the Zombie Idol Poltergeist, who as we all know was driven mad after being carried around in Russell’s underwear in Samoa (an ordeal that would certainly send anyone around the bend) and who vowed to revenge himself on the world starting with the inhabitants of LL (us) with his scheme to hide an idol (Louie) somewhere on the island and leave indecipherable clues as to its location. He was defeated, first by Qwerty (take a bow Q) then by Michel, then but almost all losers who finally deciphered ZIP’s clues. You should all take your bows for your parts in defeating ZIP, I mean it can’t be easy to chug vats of daiquiris day and night, have non-stop sex with everyone else all the while sneaking peeks at Adman’s porn collection and getting attitude adjustments from Trixie’s den of pain, and solve those obtuse clues.
Somewhere in the Jungle are the mystery postal sacks that contain the lost clues (Neuman!), but fortunately they didn’t prevent Louie from being rescued from his fate. And from developing excessive hair growth on his hands.
I want to thank Lowell for his efforts, as well as our genial and generous host for the time and effort it takes to make this Island a hedonistic place to be.
Thank you Tribe.