Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The flower of the white race strikes again...
To your left you will see a member of the master race. You can tell by the piercing blue-eyed gaze, the high cheekbones, thick golden locks, firm and resolute jaw, and... Oh, jeez, I can't do this with a straight face.
Anyhow, apparently this walking doctoral dissertation in phrenology and seven of his troglodyte buddies pooled their beer money and got an actual real live girl to travel down to Bayou Country from Oklahoma, apparently for the purposes of joining their Koven or Klavern or Klubhowse or whatever the hell it's called. There was some sort of argument in paradise, however, and the would-be Brunhilde decided she didn't want to play their reindeer games anymore, and Chuck Foster (who would be the protosimian in the picture) kind of, you know, killed her.
Too bad your girlfriend thing didn't work out, Chuck. Maybe you'll have better luck in romance when you get where you're headed.