Greetings! I hope this note reaches Jay in time, for tomorrow, I leave on a boat trip through the treacherous San Juan Islands, and yes my goodmen, I’m on an epic adventure in search of mass amounts of plunder and booty (mostly booty). The simple and honest truth is, I could be killed, kidnapped, ransomed, or even frog-humped and feathered for all I know. If I go down with my ship (150 ft. yacht), I’d like you all to remember me for the man I was… check that, remember me for the man I was going to be, for I haven’t yet come close to reaching the spiritual levels I’ve slowly begun to master on my way to level four ninja-sex master-God… and that would have been a sight to see. Lord Beddict at a level four? Only the Elder Gods could even begin to imagine the amount of swimsuit models impregnated by a man who will never actually meet the children. For they shall watch him from afar, through their televisions or computers, preaching to the world the sort of positive impact fantasy sports can have on child’s life. They shall know him as Lord Beddict, and they shall be proud. They shall be proud and say: “That beautiful, sexy, shredded, poetic, charming, loving man, once stuck his meat thermometer in momma’s turkey. It’s an honor.” Or something of that nature. You get what I’m saying, don’t you? [Jay’s Note: LOL] No? Good, because I have no idea what I’m talking about.
I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!Please, blog, may I have some more?